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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28486299">The Dog and the Moon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/platinumtongue/pseuds/platinumtongue'>platinumtongue</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mo Dao Zu Shi, grand master of demonic cultivation - Fandom, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 魔道祖师 | Módào Zǔshī (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, First Kiss, Healing, Healing Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutually Unrequited, Possibly Unrequited Love, Romance, Wuxia, Xichen's first kiss, Yaoi, danxia, second love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:08:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>30,523</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28486299</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/platinumtongue/pseuds/platinumtongue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lan Xichen finds a strange cultivator half dead outside the Cloud Recesses, and manages to save his life. But the first thing the man does when he sees Xichen's face: call him "Er-ge," and steal his first kiss. A story of mutual healing after first loves end in broken hearts. (rating for later chapters)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lan Xichen/Feng Gaoran, Lan Xichen/OC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Rescue of the Reluctant</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Zewu-jun! Zewu-jun!” cried the disciple, hurrying but making sure not to quite get to the point of running inside the Cloud Recesses. As Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren both looked up from their tea with mild disapproval as the disciple entered, he quickly explained, “There’s someone dying, down by the river!”</p><p>Zewu-jun gracefully stood, though his brows furrowed slightly with worry. “Someone dying?”</p><p>“Yes! He seems possessed by a spirit, and with our skills alone I’m afraid he will die before the curse can be lifted!”</p><p>Xichen nodded. “Excuse me, Master,” he said to his uncle, bowing. Qiren nodded curtly, and Xichen followed the disciples’ directions, riding Shuoyue down to the river outside the complex. </p><p>By the time he arrived at the river bank, lit only by dim moonlight, the man in question – a young but impoverished Taoist from the look of him – was clutching to a leg that was bound by a curse all the way up to his thigh. He was soaking wet, apparently from being in the river, but when Xichen came near enough to touch him, he was hot to the touch from fever. With the bedraggled state of his long hair, it was difficult even to see his face, except for the pained expression on it.</p><p>Xichen quickly and calmly sat down nearby the man and produced Liebing. Only a few bars into “Rest,” the man’s writhing slowly eased, and the strength seemed to drain from his body along with the pain. When he was lying motionless on his back on the riverbank, and the curse seemed subdued for the moment, Xichen replaced Liebing inside his sleeve. He tapped into his own spiritual energy and sent it into the man’s leg to help him expel the remainder of the curse over time, which would be less dangerous to his health.</p><p>After a few moments of this, the man gasped awake and clung to Xichen’s robes in apparent fright. But the lack of focus in his eyes revealed that his consciousness was still hazy. Xichen tried to ease his fright by holding him around his shoulders and pressing a hand to his chest to soothe him.</p><p>“It’s all right now. You are out of danger,” Xichen told him gently.</p><p>The man’s expression grew difficult, Xichen assumed out of pain. But he was gazing up at Xichen as if he had seen a ghost. And then a pained but beautiful expression of joy and relief broke over his face. “Er-ge…” he whispered in a hoarse voice.</p><p>Xichen froze in shock. Part of him had thought he would never be called that again. They were sweet words that nonetheless cut into him like being stabbed with countless knives. But he was in for a greater shock still. </p><p>Though clearly still feverish and confused, the man very gently stroked Xichen’s face in admiration and affection. “I thought I had lost you forever,” he whispered, his eyes growing red. He drew in close before Xichen could think to pull away.</p><p>And then, at the age of thirty-five, for the first time in his life, Xichen was kissed by another human being. </p><p>The moment was over so quickly that he almost did not realize it had happened. The man soon lost consciousness and slid limply into Xichen’s arms. Though he had been distracted at the time and had not been aware of their shocked gasps, Xichen now became conscious of the appalled gazes of the disciples who had just seen this take place. He could not muster a single thing to say.</p><p>“Z-…Zewu-jun…are you all right?” asked one of the braver disciples.</p><p>“Mm?” Xichen asked dully, not sure for a moment why he would be asking. And then the realization that one of the most important moments in his life had been stolen by a stranger, and someone who seemed to be mistaking him for someone else, dawned on him. His disciples had also just been witness to him being kissed by a man. Xichen’s cheeks slowly grew hot and he blinked rapidly.</p><p>“I’m fine,” he said, though immediately felt his chest fill with mortification at how little even he believed himself. “Please bring a stretcher. We will let him recover inside one of the meditation rooms.”</p><p>“Yes, Clan Leader,” said the disciples, quickly rushing off to obey his orders. </p><p>Xichen turned his gaze back down to the mysterious man. Though his heart was still pounding, he had to make sure. He hadn’t sounded like him, but…</p><p>He raised a slightly trembling hand to the man’s face. He pulled apart some of his tangled hair to reveal his face fully, and for the moment let out a soft breath of relief. And equally, deep regret. Of course not. How could it be him?</p><p>He lay the man back down onto his back on the ground, and attempted to glean some more information about him from his appearance. He did not recognize his sect from his garb. He was dressed in predominantly black, a few pieces dark green, of cheap fabric and roughly put together. That said, his clothes were new and without signs of being mended with patches, as so many peasants’ clothes were. He carried a sword that had a powerful gleam even when sheathed, of a twisted black sheath to mimic the appearance of obsidian. The sword looked just a bit too valuable to match with the rest of the attire.</p><p>Besides that, he had few possessions at all, some of which might have been washed away in the river. He did have one qiankun pouch, which Xichen narrowly chose not to open. He was concerned for his pupils’ safety if he allowed a strange cultivator in, and particularly one who seemed to have gotten himself into some trouble. But the Lan principles were quite clear on such matters. As long as he showed no evil intent, his privacy must be respected.</p><p>When they brought him back to the Cloud Recesses, Xichen asked Master Qiren to take a look, in case he might know more about the strangers’ origins. </p><p>Qiren slowly shook his head as he observed him and walked around the temporary bunk they had put up for him inside an empty meditation room. “No,” he confirmed. “I don’t know of any sect or rogue cultivator of this description. That he is a cultivator at least is clear. And someone who obtained a golden core relatively late, to judge from the way his age shows.”</p><p>“How old would you guess, Master?” asked Xichen.</p><p>Qiren leaned in to view the man’s face, holding his hand over his stomach to feel the ambient spiritual energy from his core. “No younger than twenty-six or -seven. But no older than forty-five.”</p><p>Xichen sighed. “That such a powerful cultivator could have been so nearby but go without notice…do you suppose he could be from a reclusive sect, such as that of Baoshan Sanren?”</p><p>“More likely just a poor one,” Qiren commented, looking somewhat disdainful. He sighed and shook his head ruefully. “To my eye, this is a cultivator who has wasted away in some nameless sect, without his talent being properly nurtured. A shame. He may never reach his potential as a result.”</p><p>Xichen followed his uncle’s rueful gaze to observe the man again, curiously. Once he had been cleaned up and dried off, he looked somewhat less dangerous than he had before. Still, he had the unforgiving brows of someone like Nie Mingjue, and a visible crease between them that said he frowned a lot. Though the rest of his face was rather handsome, in a rough way, his overall countenance was forbidding. His features reminded Xichen of a stone guardian spirit.</p><p>“Do you suppose he could be an evil Taoist?” Xichen asked softly.</p><p>Qiren considered, but shook his head. “Impossible to say just from looking. But I don’t sense any excessive yin energy. So at least if he is, he has not fallen so far.”</p><p>Xichen was unsurprised when this remark prompted Qiren’s disapproving gaze to flick up briefly toward the Chamber of Silence. Xichen did his best to cover a slight smile on behalf of his mischievous brother-in-law. “Thank you, Master. In that case, I suppose there is nothing for it but to aid in his recovery until he is ready to leave.”</p><p>“Nh,” Qiren agreed reluctantly. But then he added, “With a guard posted outside this room, until we know more.”</p><p>Xichen did not like the idea of mistrusting someone from the start, but he had to admit he would much prefer a little mistrust over compromising the safety of his pupils. He nodded with a slightly forced smile. </p><p>That night, as he sat down in his bed, intending to sleep, his mind remained back in that mediation room. It was odd enough that a powerful cultivator would be so utterly unknown in their community. Albeit Xichen did not sense any foul intent from him, the fact that he was found apparently fleeing an enemy that had cursed him was grounds for concern. It also seemed that he had recently lost someone dear to him, and apparently that person bore a passing resemblance to Xichen.</p><p>Unconsciously, Xichen’s fingers rose to touch his lips, and his heartbeat heightened again. Though it was only an instant, a thrill had run through his body as the man drew near, and a feeling like a small electric shock had passed through the point their lips touched. Xichen let out a shuddering sigh and instead grasped the clothes over his chest, seeking to quell the pain that arose there.</p><p>In a way that surprised even himself, somehow Xichen had not realized his feelings for Jin Guangyao until the worst possible moment. It was not when he pushed him out of the way, saving him from the vengeful corpse of Nie Mingjue. He was already far gone by then. Though Xichen cursed the irony of the universe and his own foolishness even more so, he still remembered the exact moment he had realized he was in love, and that he in fact had been for many years. </p><p>At the time, Jin Guangyao was already not long for this world. Xichen hadn’t finished stopping the bleeding in A-Yao’s severed arm when he fell straight into Nie Huaisang’s trap, let himself be fooled once again, and sank his sword into the heart of someone who was no threat to him at all. His feelings had been torn apart so badly up to that point that he swore to himself, if A-Yao betrayed him again, he would have no mercy. His disciplined body obeyed him all too well, even though he closed his eyes as he struck. </p><p>And when he opened his eyes to see what he had done, A-Yao’s beautiful face was in shock. Pain, anger, disbelief, but most of all, an expression as if he had been thrown into a void and forever locked alone inside it. Xichen had never seen so much loneliness in a person’s face. And to his eternal despair and regret, it was at that moment that he realized, he had been in love with him all this time. It was only after this that the dagger had been dug even deeper inside his heart, finding out that A-Yao had never once tried to hurt him. Even as he pulled Xichen near, claiming to be dragging him into hell with him, his eyes were only filled with sorrow and loneliness. Xichen knew, even before he pushed him away again, that A-Yao was incapable of causing him harm. Because his love was, and always had been, a mutual one.</p><p>Every time he thought he had already cried and mourned him enough, something would remind him, and he would fall down into a pit of despair once more, weighed down by the guilt of ending the life of the one he loved. It was so difficult each day not to wish that he was here beside him again. Or that he had at least told him his feelings when he had the chance. Tonight, Xichen almost sank down all the way before he again thought of the pained but joyous expression of the man he had found by the river. </p><p>“Er-ge,” he had said gently, with more love than Jin Guangyao had ever dared show him openly. “I thought I had lost you forever…”</p><p>Xichen felt a soft pang of guilt and trepidation as he realized he might have to comfort the man with a face that resembled someone he had lost. His heart pounded again as he wondered whether he should reveal that he had kissed the wrong person, as he was clearly delirious at the time and might not remember. He covered his face in his hands for a moment to clear these thoughts from his mind, and forced himself to meditate for almost an hour before he was eventually tired enough to sleep uninterrupted.</p><p>…</p><p>The next day, he had only just finished his morning cultivation routine when one of the disciples who had been assigned to guard the stranger came to fetch Zewu-jun, saying the stranger seemed to be having nightmares.</p><p>Sure enough, when Xichen arrived in his room, though appearing still asleep, the man was breathing harshly and visibly sweating. He thrashed as if running from something in his sleep, vocalized softly, then slightly louder, but still showed no signs of waking. Xichen sighed with concern and took a seat by his bed. According to his brother, Wei Wuxian had frequently suffered such episodes when his body was undergoing contamination by the Stygian Tiger Seal. Occasionally, waking him forcefully was painful or disorienting for him. But he claimed that having Wangji there when he woke was greatly comforting. </p><p>So Xichen simply waited patiently for several minutes until, after a loud shout, the man bolted upright with eyes wide and full of panic. He breathed harshly for several moments, the fear in his face fading little by little. Gradually, he seemed to become aware that he was in unfamiliar surroundings. When he noticed Xichen sitting quietly beside him with a soft smile, he took in a sharp breath and inched backward.</p><p>“…where am I?” he asked with a note of suspicion.</p><p>“The Cloud Recesses. A cultivation temple belonging to the Lan Sect,” Xichen answered graciously. </p><p>“The Lan…?” the man repeated, his already forbidding brows furrowing slightly. “Am I in Gusu?”</p><p>Xichen tried to keep the surprise from his face. He wondered just how long this man might have been in the river. “Yes. You were found in a forested area outside the complex, near a river. You had, and I’m afraid still have, a curse of some kind on your leg.”</p><p>The man’s confusion faded in favor of a slightly bitter expression. He moved aside the blanket and pulled up the leg of his chang. Sure enough, though much improved in intensity from the previous night, there was still the remains of a black curse mark over the skin of his leg. He let out a heavy breath, looking resigned.</p><p>“She did get me,” he muttered, apparently to himself.</p><p>“ ‘She’?” Xichen repeated curiously.</p><p>Dark eyes flicked his way with a look of suspicion before quickly looking away again. “Are these…” he stopped his question to pull gently at the garments he was wearing. </p><p>“Your own clothes were quite soaked, I’m afraid. We feared your fever would worsen if you stayed in them. But rest assured, all your belongings are just there,” Xichen assured him, indicating a drying rack with the waterlogged clothes and several smaller items beside them. </p><p>The man followed his gaze with a small breath of relief. But after he confirmed his belongings were still there, he looked toward Xichen with confusion and suspicion once more. He glanced down at the borrowed Lan clothes, curled his fingers slightly in the soft bed sheets. He turned to look out the window, which faced evergreen trees and some mossy rocks. He seemed to be listening to the soft sounds outside, some birds and distant, gentle voices. After doing so for some time, he showed a confused expression again. </p><p>“Th-…thank you,” he murmured. “But it wasn’t necessary to help me.”</p><p>Xichen felt a pang of pain through his chest at the note of hopelessness in the man’s voice. “It was none of our business, this is true. But I feared your curse would be fatal if not cured quickly. Please forgive our meddling.”</p><p>The man’s brows furrowed sharply, seemingly in pain. He didn’t seem to know how to respond.</p><p>Xichen paused for long enough that the silence became awkward, but finally he couldn’t restrain himself. “May I ask your name, Young Master?” he asked, giving in to his curiosity. </p><p>The man looked over sharply at him, seeming suspicious again. “Why? What would you do with it?”</p><p>Xichen was unable to restrain a soft laugh of surprise. “Have something to call you, I suppose.” When the man still didn’t seem convinced, he gestured to himself and said, “Mine is Lan Xichen.”</p><p>The man did not seem surprised to hear this, though he did still seem embarrassed by his own reaction. “Zewu-jun,” he muttered quietly. </p><p>Xichen nodded. “That’s right. And yours?”</p><p>A heavy frown, though Xichen couldn’t quite name the emotion behind it. It seemed to take great effort to eventually reluctantly mutter, “…Feng Jun. Courtesy name, Gaoran.”</p><p>Xichen offered a warm smile. “Master Feng,” he said with a courteous nod.</p><p>Gaoran flicked a glare at him, almost as if offended to be referred to this way. Before Xichen could stop him, he had already gotten out of bed and tried to walk over to his clothes. But after only two steps, no doubt from a combination of the curse, remains of a fever and likely malnutrition, he crumpled to the floor, panting through pain and exhaustion. </p><p>Xichen did not hesitate to gather him into his arms and place him back into bed, only realizing much after this incident that this was an incredibly intimate gesture. He could have simply held the man around his shoulder to help him, yet somehow this did not occur to him at the time. </p><p>“Please…Master Feng,” he said with a difficult smile, once Gaoran was back in bed and looking somewhat mortified. “I can understand your reluctance to stay with those who brought you here against your will. But even if you were able to travel in your current state, your health would be in great danger. If you need to contact someone, we can provide you with anything you may need.”</p><p>For a time, Feng Gaoran’s eyes became blank and listless, though Xichen was not sure which part of what he had just said he was reacting to. The outward intimidating effect of this man’s face, combined with the memory of how gently and warmly he had spoken and touched him the previous night, brought a deep ache to Xichen’s heart. In the end, Gaoran did not speak again at all that day. </p><p>The following day too, although Xichen came to visit him, he seemed to struggle even to acknowledge Xichen’s presence. He barely ate and hardly seemed to move most of the time. After passing one further day in this manner, three days after he had arrived, Xichen came to visit him to find him already dressed in his own clothes again.</p><p>He flicked a bitter gaze down toward Xichen’s feet, but did not greet him at first. He finished tightening his yi, and stared blankly at the ground for a moment. “Zewu-jun. Thank you for your help. I must be going.”</p><p>Normally, Xichen was certain he would have simply accepted this. This unknown cultivator was not a sick puppy that Xichen had picked up off the street. His life was his own, and in reality they had no connection. But the polite words of safe travels that he would normally say became locked up somewhere between Xichen’s head and his heart. His lips parted, but he did not manage to speak.</p><p>Gaoran looked up at him and his forbidding expression grew concerned. He seemed to think that he had done something wrong. “I…am sorry. I have no means to repay you. I…could stay and do simple labor, but that would only burden you further…”</p><p>Xichen managed a soft laugh. “Master Feng…unless I am much mistaken, you are not yet in a fit state to travel, much less to do manual labor.”</p><p>“I can’t stay,” Gaoran insisted softly, with a hint of anger in his voice. He closed his eyes tightly, no doubt still fighting off a fever and having trouble standing and speaking for even this long. </p><p>Xichen considered, the pain in his chest growing at the thought that this cultivator would leave, and perhaps injure himself further, or worse. He took a step toward him, realizing that this Feng Gaoran was only a couple of inches shorter than Xichen himself. Xichen said softly, “Master Feng. To tell you the truth, we have more than enough disciples here to handle daily chores and odd jobs. But there are other ways you could repay us.”</p><p>Little hope revealed itself in Gaoran’s stoic face, but he waited patiently to hear the answer. </p><p>“Forgive the presumption, but is there any chance you are accomplished at martial arts?”</p><p>Gaoran’s black eyes flicked up toward Xichen, at last looking him in the eyes directly. But some emotion flashed over his face as soon as he looked at him for only a few seconds. Gaoran quickly looked away again. His hand clasped the hilt of his sword and he nodded.</p><p>“In that case, when you are well, you could save myself and my uncle a lot of time by evaluating the disciples’ practice at sword play. Would this be acceptable?”</p><p>Reluctantly, Gaoran slowly turned his gaze up toward Xichen again. His dark eyes fluttered softly, but Xichen had great difficulty reading his expression. At length, he lowered his gaze once more with a soft outward breath of resignation. “If…no one else objects to my being here…”</p><p>Xichen nodded, unable to hold back a smile of relief. He reached out to grasp Gaoran’s shoulder without thinking and said, “Please be at ease here until you are well. Think of other things later.”</p><p>How could Xichen have forgotten how little he knew of this man, how they were almost strangers, and how in a feverish haze this man had taken something he had kept safe his whole life? As he grasped Gaoran’s shoulder, the other man instinctively leaned into his touch, as if seeking out comfort. His head bowed, he drew in just a little closer, a barely detectable movement but one that made Xichen’s heart pound. </p><p>Gaoran’s lips parted but he said nothing. Nor could Xichen manage anything to say. His heartbeat felt so loud in his own ears that he was sure Gaoran could hear it at this distance. But all the other man did was slowly close his eyes with an expression of pain. His head lowered further.</p><p>“Thank you…Zewu-jun,” he murmured almost inaudibly.</p><p>Xichen reflexively nodded slightly, but was still unable to muster speech. He swallowed and nodded again, awkwardly removing his touch from Gaoran’s shoulder. He attempted a smile. “Of course. It’s nothing. Well then…just relax, and…regain your strength. Please eat all the food this time, even if it’s difficult.”</p><p>Gaoran nodded dimly, seeming miles away once more. </p><p>Xichen hurriedly left the room, although he had come there intending to visit for longer. He had to leave. His heart was pounding so much he almost wondered if he were ill. Yet instinctively he knew, this was not the sort of illness with which his uncle would be able to help him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Old Enemies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Feng Gaoran remembers his past, and fears its impact on his present saviors.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Gaoran…” Wenting growled, the courtesy name she herself had given him. Her normally predatory eyes were filled with betrayal as she slowly approached him, his blood dripping from her sword. </p><p>Gaoran blinked past the mud, rain and his own blood as he scrambled back away from her, but was quickly losing the will to fight any longer. His hand slipped. Luckily his instincts caused him to shift his weight forward. He flicked a cautious glance behind him to see the steep slope leading down to a raging torrent. The river was at its highest and most vicious this time of year. Would he survive if he fell in there?</p><p>Her anger toward him dimmed as she saw the will to fight leaving his face. “I taught you better than this,” she told him softly. Somehow he heard her voice clearly even over the heavy and oppressive sound of the rain. “You’ve let your enemy corner you without a means to escape or fight. What should you have done differently?”</p><p>Gaoran fought the pain, both physical and emotional, just to stay conscious. Despite his wish otherwise, he could never limit his feelings for her only to contempt. Even after seeing what she had done to Jiaofei-ge. Whatever happened now, he knew, his heart was about to break. </p><p>He closed his eyes briefly to center himself. “What should I have done differently?” he posed the question softly aloud, but not the one she meant. Eventually, all he could say was, “Who knows.”</p><p>For a long few moments, only the sound of the rain could be heard between them. Gaoran watched the droplets ping off with a pleasant metallic sound from the edge of her sword. So many times, he had taken heart from the sight of her merciless sword sweeping away their enemies as if they were made of mere paper. To have it now turned against himself felt like having his whole existence denied.</p><p>Wenting hesitated. But Wenting never hesitated. The fact that she did now only made her cruelty toward him hurt worse. Nevertheless, her lips parted for several, heavy seconds before she eventually spoke. When she did, however, the last of Gaoran’s hope drained away.</p><p>“Where is the other one?”</p><p>…</p><p>In the end, Gaoran let himself fall. He didn’t know how long he was battered in the raging torrent. At times it felt like an eternity, yet afterward he struggled to remember even small pieces of the experience. Through it all, he only felt cold and desperation to keep his head above the water. His next conscious thought, after he had been found on the shore, writhing from pain in his leg, was that he had found Jiaofei again. </p><p>Somehow, Jiaofei-ge had saved him. His kind voice reassuring him, his beauty touching every corner of Gaoran’s ravaged heart with life-giving mercy. Greeted by this impossible sight as he woke, his relief at that moment overwhelmed his logic, and he finally let go of the chains he had been keeping on his own heart. He embraced him and kissed him as he had always longed to. But how could it be Jiaofei? Gaoran had watched Wenting’s sword run straight through him.</p><p>Days later, he woke once more inside a bright and clean chamber in the cold mountain temple of the Cloud Recesses. It took him a few moments to reorient himself. Essentially, this was the first day that he had woken with a clear head since he had arrived here. His dreams were still plagued with so many painful memories and contradictions that it still took him some time to feel fully awake.</p><p>He glanced down at the soft sheets over a relatively hard bed. Everything in this room was clean, orderly, and made him feel worse about how lacking he was in discipline or breeding. Really, what was he doing here? He didn’t belong with cultivators to start with, not to mention possibly the most powerful and honorable of the four major clans. He roughly pulled back most of his messy hair into a simple green ribbon as he prepared to step outside. </p><p>Of course, seeing Jiaofei-ge had all been just some feverish dream. In reality, he was saved by Lan Xichen, Zewu-jun, the great sect leader of the Gusu Lan Sect, and possibly the most powerful cultivator alive. He hoped it was not Lan Xichen himself that he had kissed in that moment, but he was too mortified to ask one way or the other. It didn’t matter. He was a cursed man not long for this world, no matter what he did after this.</p><p>Yet despite his own despair and an inability to see any future for himself anymore, he now found himself in a curious position. The position of being indebted to someone for saving the life that he himself no longer valued. </p><p>As he sat watching the young Lan disciples train, he frowned unconsciously: a bad habit that Wenting actually said she liked, and therefore gave him even less reason to correct it. He was conscious of them now and then flicking frightened glances his way as they trained, but as usual, he simply ascribed it to most people treating him as something to fear. His face showed little of how impressed he actually was at their discipline.</p><p>They finished their daily practice set of forms and stood waiting for an appraisal. Gaoran sighed uncomfortably. He had been told where to sit, and that he should examine and correct them, but no more detail than this. Nor had he ever taught anyone before. On the other hand, he had said he would do it.</p><p>He let out another sigh, this one of resignation. “I didn’t learn any official style. So to speak plainly, there would be no sense in my correcting yours,” he told them flatly. Instead he got to his feet and took Xiemo in hand, but kept it in its scabbard. “Spar with me.”</p><p>Despite this suggestion coming from a combination of simple ignorance and a lack of interest on his part, the other disciples diligently sat down at the edges of the room and eagerly watched as he pointed to one of the older ones, and said disciple faced him with a wooden practice sword. As they exchanged a bow, Gaoran’s thoughts drifted back to the first time Wenting had insisted they enter a martial arts competition together, in order to earn money. Each one was brutal and he emerged feeling less human than when he had gone in. He had hated them. But the instincts he cultivated there became invaluable protection.</p><p>The fluid and eye-catching movements of this Lan disciple were elegant and difficult to follow. Such a diligently trained opponent was new to Gaoran, and these Lan techniques nearly succeeded in unbalancing him more than once. Nearly. </p><p>He gradually got used to the disciple’s pace and matched it. After allowing the disciple several chances to land a disabling blow, all of which he missed, Gaoran drove in and managed to tap the boy’s forehead, shoulder, rib and leg with Xiemo’s sheathed tip, all in quick succession. The boy blinked as if at a loss, while the other disciples murmured among themselves. Gaoran nodded toward the edge of the room. The disciple in front of him reluctantly bowed and sat down.</p><p>Gaoran pointed to another seated disciple and crooked his finger upward. The boy jumped up, clasped his hands together and bowed, as did Gaoran. Now that Gaoran was a little more used to the technique, this bought was even shorter than the last. </p><p>This process went on for nearly an hour, and to his surprise, the disciples did not seem to grow bored. They even kept volunteering to try again after they had been beaten. None yet had even been able to make contact with his body. He wondered if he were incapable of teaching, as this process wasn’t seeming to yield any results.</p><p>But as he turned around, intending to begin another bought, he noticed someone smiling at him from the doorway. He blinked in astonishment. He had not even felt anyone’s presence behind him. This Lan Xichen really was quite something.</p><p>The disciples all stood as soon as one of them followed Gaoran’s gaze to the door, and they greeted Zewu-jun with reverent bows. Gaoran felt a little less pressure as he realized the difference in their mild fascination with him compared to their deep trust and devotion toward their clan leader. Gaoran slid Xiemo back into his belt. </p><p>“Zewu-jun,” he said, bowing as well. </p><p>“Oh, please don’t let me disturb you,” said the clan leader, looking somewhat flustered. “I just came to make sure everything was going smoothly.”</p><p>Gaoran sighed and looked away uncomfortably. “If…I could observe your teaching, Zewu-jun…I might have a better idea what to do.”</p><p>One excited disciple piped up, “Feng-xianbei! Would you spar with Zewu-jun for us to see?”</p><p>Though Gaoran immediately made his most uncomfortable and frightening face (mostly unintentionally), Lan Xichen seemed quite intrigued, even amused. His eyes turned toward Gaoran with a soft expression that made Gaoran’s heart beat a little faster. He would almost say Zewu-jun looked a little shy. </p><p>“Well…Master Feng is tired. And still recovering from his injuries,” he said softly, with a gentle and deferential air that made Gaoran’s chest ache. His mind was unwillingly drawn back to the pleasant smile of Jiaofei-ge, and the horrible blank space left in the world by his absence. </p><p>“I’m not tired,” Gaoran murmured, his mind still elsewhere. </p><p>He pulled Xiemo from his belt. Slid it from its scabbard and then dropped said scabbard at his feet. He didn’t turn to face Lan Xichen. Didn’t bow. He relied on the fact that this elite cultivator was unlikely to disappoint him. </p><p>Sure enough, sensing Gaoran’s killing intent, he soon heard the sound of Shuoyue being slowly and almost silently drawn. </p><p>“Eh…real blades?” asked one younger disciple in a small, frightened voice.</p><p>“Don’t worry. Zewu-jun would never let anything happen,” whispered another.</p><p>“Shh!” hissed a third. </p><p>A heavy atmosphere fell between the two senior cultivators in the center of the room. Gaoran focused his senses. He immediately felt the power emanating from behind his back as soon as Lan Xichen drew his sword. It was enough to make him tremble. Yet it held within it was a soft light, a feeling of compassion that made him guilty for provoking it. But that was good. He needed to be reminded of how low he had sunk.</p><p>He closed his eyes, heard and felt the almost imperceptibly soft movements, the rustling of clothing, the pounding of his own heart. He sensed Xichen’s sword slowly rise, until he could feel its energy almost running directly through him from across the room. Gaoran’s eyes opened. </p><p>His arm moved before he even turned, striking Shuoyue out of the way to slide inside Zewu-jun’s guard to strike. But without even a change in expression, Lan Xichen glided just inches out of the way, allowing Xiemo to strike thin air just to the right of his rib cage. Gaoran instinctively leaned as far back as he could as he felt the wind of Shuoyue pass so close to his face he could hear the sound of metal slicing air. Even as he jumped back to regroup, he was forced to parry a strike that wound through the air like light through water. It was beautiful swordsmanship. </p><p>But it wasn’t enough. He could see it quite clearly; Lan Xichen’s mind was not on fighting. His eyes still held interest, kindness, perhaps even something akin to affection as their swords crossed so quickly that sparks threatened to fly from them. But this unwelcome kindness only made the hole in Gaoran’s chest feel deeper, and his self-hatred and frustration grow, with each passing moment. </p><p>He did not realize these emotions were emerging on his face until he saw Lan Xichen’s expression start to change. The small satisfaction Gaoran got from the tinge of worry in Zewu-jun’s face only urged him on, and his strikes grew sharper, more brutal. And then he came a little too close. His naked blade sliced almost soundlessly into fabric, and then drew a thin line of red over Zewu-jun’s collarbone. He was just able to see Zewu-jun’s eyes widen slightly.</p><p>WHUMP.</p><p>The next thing he knew, he was staring up at the ceiling, on his back, on the ground. Only after he fell did he notice the after-impression of a palm-sized strike to his shoulder. He rubbed it to get the blood flowing and make sure nothing was broken, then he got back to his feet and looked up at Xichen as if nothing had happened. He raised his sword again.</p><p>Zewu-jun’s face was now distinctly troubled as he glanced worriedly at the disciples all around them, then back at Gaoran. The slice at his collar had been so slight that they might not have seen it make contact. Xichen held Shuoyue at his side, but the blade was clearly humming with the danger Gaoran was currently presenting. The worried frown he cast him wordlessly asked whether he had taken leave of his senses. </p><p>Gaoran’s own expression said nothing at all. The fact that he was indebted to this Lan Xichen, who had shown him nothing but kindness and had done no harm to anyone as far as Gaoran was aware, had flown from his mind. Here was a dangerous thing at which he could throw himself until he broke apart. And why shouldn’t he?</p><p>He stepped forward and raised Xiemo. But that was his last conscious act. The moment his heel hit the ground, pain shot up through his whole leg and even seemed to reach into his stomach. He dropped his sword and crumpled to the ground in agony, shivering and even unable to raise his voice through the intense pain that robbed him of thought. </p><p>He heard a sword clatter to the ground. Powerful hands grasped him. “Master Feng!” cried Zewu-jun worriedly. As he trembled through the pain, clenching his teeth, he felt Lan Xichen feeling the qi at his wrist, obviously able to see at a glance that the pain in his leg was not from an injury. Xichen only lifted his pant leg just enough to see a whisp of curse there, and then quickly covered it before any of the disciples could see. </p><p>Gaoran was vaguely aware, though he was barely clinging to consciousness at this point, that he was gathered up in great arms. It was an unfamiliar sensation. He was not a small man, but his weight didn’t even seem to strain the great Lan Xichen. Zewu-jun’s soft voice said something to the disciples, and then Gaoran felt the cool air of outside soothe him just a little as he was carried back to his room. He was laid back in his bed and a comforting spiritual energy began to move through him. The pain retreated. Eventually, he was able to open his eyes.</p><p>He had no sense of how much time had passed. But when he opened his eyes to view the one sitting by his bedside and feeding him spiritual energy, though still sitting perfectly upright, there was tiredness and worry visible in Lan Xichen’s normally serene expression. When he felt Gaoran’s gaze on him, Xichen’s eyes slowly opened as well. </p><p>Xichen offered a cautious smile, but wasn’t able to maintain it. He looked down at the bed with worry tinging the edges of his eyes. “This is no mere curse. Is it?” he asked softly.</p><p>Gaoran turned away to hide his irrational irritation at this man for naively trying to help him, without knowing him, without even knowing what he had done. “You’ve done enough, Zewu-jun. It was my mistake thinking I stood a chance against you, even at my best.”</p><p>Lan Xichen blinked and held an awkward expression for a moment. He glanced down at his own collarbone and examined the very small cut in his clothes. “Your ferociousness exceeded both our expectations.”</p><p>“…I have to leave,” Gaoran said eventually, though he could see the shock in Zewu-jun’s face even in his peripheral vision. “I’m sorry. I can’t repay my debt after all.”</p><p>Lan Xichen allowed this statement to hang in the air for a moment, but Gaoran could feel tension between them. He assumed Lan Xichen believed him to be ungrateful, a criticism he felt he well deserved. But there was a soft emotion that he could not place in the great cultivator’s face as he slowly turned his gaze downward.</p><p>“I have no justification for keeping you here,” Xichen said in an almost inaudibly small voice. Gaoran’s chest felt cracked open. How could his mannerisms be so similar to Jiaofei-ge? It didn’t seem fair. “And asking why you feel such a strong urge to leave is also none of my business. Yet…I wish you would stay. If only-“</p><p>At that moment, a frantic disciple’s voice rang out through the complex, “Zewu-jun! Monster! Monster!”</p><p>Lan Xichen almost immediately moved to rise from his seat, but Gaoran grasped his arm. “Please lend me enough spiritual energy to walk for a few minutes.”</p><p>Though understandably shocked, after a moment’s hesitation, Lan Xichen nodded and lightly pressed his fingers into Gaoran’s wrist, sending him a flood of powerful and healing energy. The pain faded, and Gaoran got to his feet moments later.</p><p>They both ran out into the courtyard to find the cause of the disturbance. He heard Zewu-jun gasp, his attention clearly focused on the growling, ghostly dog that was terrorizing the young disciples. But Gaoran’s gaze immediately turned to a frightened disciple who was raising her sword with shaking hands, preparing to fight.</p><p>“Don’t! It feeds on spiritual energy!” he warned, running toward her. </p><p>But her attention was understandably on the monster in front of her. She let out a cry as she dove toward it with a fierce strike of her sword. </p><p>Even though the strike hit home, the beast merely growled, its body glowed with dark energy, and it opened its jaws to take a bite out of her. Gaoran didn’t waste time drawing his sword and instead wrapped his fist in zhenqi, the technique Wenting had reluctantly taught him, and part of the reason she was now trying to kill him. He struck the dog demon under its neck and set it flying backward and thought a door to a meditation room.</p><p>As the dust settled, he drew Xiemo and took a breath to calm his heart. He mustn’t be distracted. The slightest break in his concentration, and she would strike him again. And then no amount of Lan healing techniques would be enough to save him.</p><p>He was distantly aware that the disciple who had struck the demon dog with her sword had collapsed in tears behind him, no doubt in a pain that Gaoran knew well. But he could spare no sympathy for her, nor any other emotion at all. The use of zhenqi required an emotionless mental state, as any instability in the flow of qi could weaken the effects and make the user extremely vulnerable to attacks from these particular types of demons. Jiangshi. The dead who fed on the qi of the living.</p><p>“I’ll draw it off,” he said, as he slowly sealed off his heart. “Take care of your disciples, Zewu-jun.”</p><p>He heard a voice calling him, telling him to wait. But then his zhenqi was complete, and nothing entered his mind but the task before him. Kill the demon dog. </p><p>Knowing the creature had been sent to find him and would follow, he ran out into the wilderness of the mountains surrounding this temple. His footsteps were obediently tracked by the jerking and jumping movements of the fell dog. Once he had lured it a good distance away, Gaoran stopped to face the creature. </p><p>Jianshi could be fast, depending on the condition of their reanimated bodies, but that was not what made them dangerous. The dog growled in a hoarse and demonic voice as it awkwardly hunched down with its half-rotted muscles, preparing to strike. With his zhenqi surrounding his while body, Gaoran could see the black hole of energy that the dog represented. At best, it would painfully and forcefully drain the qi from anything it touched. At worst, it would leave behind Wenting’s curse. </p><p>Quick as a flash, the creature leapt toward him, aiming a bite at his elbow. Gaoran managed to swing his fist into the way and knocked the dog back to the ground. But it was back on him almost instantly. He parried and struck back against the ferocious attacks, looking for an opening to make a fatal blow. He was so deeply focused that he failed to notice that a third figure arrived and stood watching them. </p><p>The dog in fact noticed before he did. As if tired of being rebuffed by someone who would not satisfy its hunger for qi, the dog snarled and turned toward the observer. Fortunately this created an opening which drew Gaoran’s attention before he turned to see who was being attacked. As it jumped into the air toward its new prey, Xiemo fell and sliced neatly between the front half of its body and the back. The animal fell in two pieces, jerking and snarling on the forest floor. </p><p>Gaoran knelt and used his zhenqi-covered fist to crush the animal’s skull. Finally, its body ceased moving. He let out a heavy breath and gradually allowed his zhenqi to fade. He blinked several times as he came back to himself. His gaze eventually turned to the one who had crumpled to his knees in an attempt to avoid the dog. </p><p>His heart flew into his throat when he saw who it was. “Er-ge!” he cried without thinking. He knelt beside him and grasped his face in both hands, worriedly searching his expression. “You’re not hurt, are you? Did it touch you?”</p><p>The beautiful face, so like the one he loved, but not quite the same, blinked back at him in astonishment. Traces of pink crawled up the porcelain skin of his neck and eventually reached the cheeks that Gaoran was still holding. The powerful cultivator cast aside his gaze with the air of a young maiden, inadvertently further taxing the emotional load on Gaoran’s heart. </p><p>“I’m fine,” he whispered, so softly Gaoran almost didn’t catch it. </p><p>Lan Xichen. The name popped into his head as his eyes happened to glance up at his forehead ribbon and see the Lan symbol. Gaoran gasped and immediately retracted his hands, looking away and trying to pretend that moment hadn’t just happened. Had his dream been real after all? More importantly, why was Lan Xichen answering to ‘Er-ge’? He should be the elder of the two Lan brothers, as far as Gaoran knew. Was he doing this to him on purpose?</p><p>“Make sure,” he grunted, stiffly. Lan Xichen looked up at him with innocent eyes that made Gaoran want to throw something. “Make sure it didn’t touch you. Her servants leave curses, although not as strong as her own.”</p><p>He unconsciously shifted his weight from his injured leg, hoping Lan Xichen didn’t notice. He turned away to avert his gaze. Eventually Lan Xichen seemed to realize why, and he hesitantly but obediently began to part his own clothes and examine his body for traces of a curse. </p><p>“Gaoran,” Lan Xichen said at length, with the sound of shifting fabric. “It’s all right. There’s no trace of a curse.”</p><p>Gaoran nodded, but he didn’t turn back to face him.  </p><p>“I’ve never seen something like this,” Xichen murmured softly. “Gaoran…what was it?”</p><p>His heart ached at hearing the question he had feared. There was no way to hide his situation anymore, even if he still wanted to. But he bore the weight of every single soul that he had ever told this secret to. He had no way of knowing how far Wenting would go to protect it. She might not be above annihilating one of the four great clans to protect herself. </p><p>“Telling you…would make you its target as well,” he said at length. “Please. Just let me go. Forget I was ever here.”</p><p>“Your situation has not changed,” Lan Xichen told him calmly, taking two steps closer and making Gaoran’s heart feel as if it would break free of his chest. “For a few more days, at least, sending you out alone to face these things will be akin to killing you. I cannot.”</p><p>Gaoran closed his eyes, feeling the pain and exhaustion in his body beginning to return. He took up Xiemo, sheathed it. After a moment’s hesitation, he held it out toward the person to whom he was indebted. </p><p>“If they come back while I’m asleep, Xiemo will help you fight them. Just…be careful because he’s a bit…of a handful…”</p><p>Gaoran finished this sentence as he started to fall, and was unconscious before he hit the ground. At any rate, it appeared he would be in Gusu for another night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Murky Ground</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lan Xichen is troubled by dreams of his past and misplaced feelings of his present, while he and Gaoran attempt to protect the Cloud Recesses from further attack.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Even though this time he slept like the dead, presumably from exhaustion, Gaoran’s forbidding face still looked troubled even at rest. Xichen found himself ducking in now and then to check on him, each time lingering there longer than he planned to. Watching this sleeping face somehow equally satisfied and increased his concern.</p><p>On one occasion, Xichen hadn’t realized how close it was to his own regular sleeping time, and he briefly slid into slumber while seated beside Gaoran’s bed. As he did, he was troubled by a particularly painful dream.</p><p>At the start, he was in a decadent room where he had never been before, bathed in comfort. The sun was peeking through gauze curtains, a gentle breeze ringing a small wind chime in the distance. Xichen lay on a couch laden with pillows, his eyes only half open despite apparently being in the middle of a dream. And curled up in his arms, spreading warmth and affection through his body, his beloved: A-Yao.</p><p>Xichen could not keep himself from softly stroking his hair, even as he fought the urge to sleep in the middle of this blissful comfort. How strange. He didn’t think he’d ever actually touched it in reality, yet he was certain A-Yao’s hair was just this silky and soft to the touch. He secretly hoped, as he briefly closed his eyes and sank deeper into the feeling of warmth from the small body in his arms, that the real A-Yao’s warmth would feel this comforting as well.</p><p>But slowly, he began to sense that something was wrong. He reluctantly opened his eyes and glanced down to gauge the expression of his beloved. A-Yao seemed to notice him staring, but did not look up to meet his gaze. His eyes were cast down but Xichen could still see he was troubled. </p><p>“A-Yao…?” he asked with concern. </p><p>At first he did not answer. Jin Guangyao was an expert at concealing his feelings, so why was he allowing his worry to show now?  Xichen had only ever seen him reveal this much emotion a handful of times, and each one had been because something terrible was happening to him. Xichen felt cold in the pit of his stomach.</p><p>At last the delicate man raised his chin slightly, forcing pride to cover the weakness he did not wish to reveal. “How long do you intend to keep me here, Er-ge?”</p><p>This softly uttered phrase caused a painful crack to force its way through Xichen’s chest. He unconsciously tightened his hold on Jin Guangyao.</p><p>A demure chuckle, but without any warmth. “It’s very sweet. But haven’t you ever heard of killing someone with kindness?”</p><p>If this had been reality, Xichen would have been shocked to hear these words. But in the dream he somehow knew what Jin Guangyao meant, and it only made him want to hold tighter to him. He nuzzled his face against A-Yao’s hair, holding him as close as he could with one arm and stroking his cheek and hair with the other. </p><p>“No more words,” he whispered. “Just a little longer. Let me hold you.”</p><p>At first A-Yao closed his eyes and he was sure he felt him relaxing into Xichen’s arms. But the blissful sensation only lasted for a moment. A-Yao’s eyes opened again, with even more bleakness in them than before. </p><p>“Just exactly how long will it take before you learn from your mistakes, Lan Xichen?” he asked with a coldness that the real A-Yao rarely showed openly. “You should know by now what happens when you let dangerous men in.”</p><p>Vaguely, he realized A-Yao was no longer talking about himself, at least not entirely. “Don’t talk about that now,” Xichen murmured, still fighting the urge to sleep, even though he was aware A-Yao was purposefully trying to break his heart.</p><p>A-Yao chuckled a little, this time a little less coldly. “If I had known Er-ge was so childish and obedient in dreams, I would have visited sooner.”</p><p>“Stay,” Xichen murmured without thinking, curling in on A-Yao’s body in his arms and wishing there was a way to be even closer.</p><p>A small, shaking breath escaped A-Yao. For a moment he seemed trapped, unable to fight Xichen’s will to simply lie here tangled in one another’s bodies and without a care in the world. But then he let that moment slip away, even as he gently rested his head in the hollow of Xichen’s neck.</p><p>“You know that holding onto ghosts will only hurt you more,” A-Yao whispered, struggling to hide the emotion in his voice. “I already gave you up once, and in the end it killed me. You have to be the one to let go this time.”</p><p>“No,” Xichen whispered, tightening his grasp yet further.</p><p>“It’s too tight, Er-ge,” A-Yao complained softly.</p><p>“Don’t go.”</p><p>“…let me go.”</p><p>“No!” Xichen held him with shaking fingers that curled into his hair, seeking any means to tie him down.</p><p>A soft, regretful sigh against his cheek. “Then…I’ll keep hurting you until you do.” </p><p>As he said this, the cruel Jin Guangyao that Lan Xichen had met for the first time inside the Guanyin Temple rose up from being gently surrounded in Xichen’s arms to sitting on top of his lap and pushing him down. Flashes of the pain concealed by pride and avarice were visible in his eyes as, despite his promised cruelty, he held Xichen’s face in both hands and pressed a soft, almost apologetic kiss to his lips.</p><p>…</p><p>Xichen gasped awake. For a few moments, he felt cold and feverish, trembling softly as his thoughts tried to reconcile the dream with reality. He had to hold his head as he tried to sort through the painful feelings that such a dream awakened. As ever, even in his own imagination it seemed, A-Yao was too difficult for him to understand. </p><p>He stayed beside Gaoran until the latter eventually woke. When he did, he seemed to realize the pressure to explain what had happened. He begrudgingly shared only as much as he claimed was safe. </p><p>“I know a secret about someone. A secret they’d rather died with me,” he explained succinctly, his dark gaze fixed on the bed before him and avoiding Xichen beside him.</p><p>“I see,” Xichen said with a heavy sigh. “And…I presume the dog has something to do with it?”</p><p>Gaoran flicked a suspicious glance up at him. “…why do you say that?”</p><p>“Mm,” Xichen murmured contemplatively. “Well, to be honest, that creature alone was a strange enough phenomenon for me. I don’t flatter myself by claiming to have an encyclopedic knowledge of various fell beasts or spirits. But after consulting with my uncle, the description of the creature seemed just as strange to him. And then there was the…unique method you used to fight it.”</p><p>“…you could see it?”</p><p>“Not exactly see,” Xichen admitted, though he couldn’t help thinking even being asked that question was a little strange. “If I had to describe it, I would compare the feeling to…a wall in front of some kind of large noise. And on a subjective level…I must tell you, Master Feng, I found it quite frightening.”</p><p>He could have been mistaken, but in the pause that followed, he thought there was a flicker of emotion in Gaoran’s intimidating face. “I would recommend against being too curious about it. The more you know, the more danger you will be in.”</p><p>At this, Xichen attempted to conceal a mild irritation that had been building for some time. “Master Feng,” he said carefully. “One of my disciples was fighting for her life yesterday. The peace of the Cloud Recesses has been broken. Even if you left this instant, this enemy is no longer yours alone.”</p><p>Gaoran’s brows furrowed deeply in frustration. Yet he could summon no response to Xichen’s fair assessment of the danger to his home and those dear to him. </p><p>“At least, perhaps you could tell me about your sword’s unique qualities,” Xichen said with a gentle smile, indicating the obsidian-patterened sword that he now held across his lap. “On your advice I kept it at hand in case another creature appeared. It has a spiritual energy like none I have encountered before.”</p><p>“…you mean weak,” Gaoran guessed.</p><p>Xichen lifted the item and examined it once again, still not exactly certain what he was sensing about it. “I suppose so. Yet you were able to cross blades with me without serious injury, so I assume it cannot be as simple as that.”</p><p>He passed the blade over to its owner, who accepted it obediently. Gaoran ran his thumb along the hilt for a moment, seeming to be caught up in his thoughts. He drew the blade a few inches so that Xichen could see it. “It’s called ‘Xiemo.’ Silent harmony,” he said. “It’s a contrary thing. I learned the technique you saw partly by necessity.”</p><p>Gaoran passed the hilt over to indicate that Xichen should grasp it. Uncertainly, he did. “Don’t draw. But imagine there’s an enemy right in front of you.”</p><p>Xichen hesitantly obeyed. As he grasped the hilt, he let his eyes unfocus in front of him and he pictured that dog again. But as soon as he did, he felt a slight ache in his arm. He even felt a little dizzy. It took him a few moments to realize that the sword was actually draining his spiritual energy. Gaoran saw this realization pass over his face and quickly broke contact, sliding the blade back into its sheath again and setting it beside him on the bed. </p><p>“He swallows up qi like a drunkard, not only failing to use it properly but dulling his own attacks too,” he grumbled, casting a bitter glance down toward Xiemo, though not entirely without affection. “You need to learn a little trick to use it.”</p><p>He raised a hand with his fingers spread. Xichen watched carefully for a change that he could feel taking place, though he could not see it. As Gaoran closed his fingers into a fist, one by one, Xichen felt a similar sensation to the one he had felt the previous day. He could tell there was something there, but it was as if it was blocked from his perception. Like standing beside a waterfall, obscured from view by trees.</p><p>Expressionlessly, Gaoran held out his fist before Xichen. “Touch,” he said in a dull, empty voice.</p><p>Not without some trepidation, Xichen cautiously raised his fingers and set them lightly atop Gaoran’s hand. He shivered. Although his skin temperature hadn’t changed, somehow Xichen felt cold just from touching him. He didn’t like this. It was almost like this one part of Gaoran’s body wasn’t alive anymore. He couldn’t bear it for more than a moment, and removed his fingers.</p><p>Slowly, the sensation of noise behind a barrier gradually lessened, and Xichen could feel Gaoran’s presence before him returning. For an instant, even though his face was no less frightening than ever, Xichen was sure he saw an instant of inescapable sadness and loneliness come over him. Seeing this expression, Xichen’s mind flashed back against his will to the moment he had stabbed A-Yao. He let out a shaking breath. He quickly cast his gaze down, trying to think about anything else in the world.</p><p>“I call it ‘zhenqi,’” Gaoran explained softly, thankfully returning Xichen’s attention to the present. He looked down at his own hand and flexed it once or twice as if he didn’t like the feel of it either. “Qi suppression.”</p><p>Xichen took in a sharp breath. “How can such a thing be done safely?”</p><p>“Safely?” Gaoran asked, as if surprised it would be an issue.</p><p>“Qi…is to the soul what blood is to the body,” Xichen explained. “If you cut it off like that for more than…a few minutes at most, you would risk great damage to any part of your body on which you use it. Even permanent damage to your soul itself.”</p><p>Gaoran shook his head. “It isn’t cut off. Just suppressed. I channel as much yin energy as possible to the exterior of my body. The balance of yin and yang remains the same, but the yang is forced down beneath a layer of qi-swallowing darkness. Both the yang energy inside my body and Xiemo are able to absorb qi and release it in small amounts, so there is little danger of damage to my soul or body.”</p><p>Xichen still shook his head in disbelief. “Unless you break concentration for an instant. You’ve truly never been hurt?”</p><p>Gaoran scoffed slightly. “Too many times. Enough that it doesn’t happen anymore.” He looked toward Lan Xichen’s knees with a flicker of guilt. “Zewu-jun…I didn’t mean to cause you and your people to be involved. And even teaching you how to defend against her would bring her wrath. If you knew her secret, she’d keep going after you even after I'm dead.”</p><p>Xichen’s chest ached and he did not know what to say. Although he should be concerned for this predicament and for the danger that faced them either way, his mind was caught on how cruel it was that Gaoran was considering his own death the more reasonable solution. He didn’t know this man, he kept reminding himself. But he couldn’t accept that he should die. </p><p>Xichen’s eyes passed down to Gaoran’s leg again. “You can’t tell me about your curse either?”</p><p>Gaoran shifted his leg uncomfortably under his gaze. “Don’t concern yourself with that. Zewu-jun…I’m sorry, but I need your help to think of a way to protect the people inside the Cloud Recesses. Even something temporary will do. Whether I heal or the curse takes me, either way I’ll be gone as soon as I am able. Then you should be safe.”</p><p>Xichen’s folded hands tightened in his lap. It became difficult for him to speak. He wanted to tell Gaoran he was being a fool and should not be so cavalier about his own life. But he knew it wasn’t his place. Eventually he simply murmured, “How can I? You won’t tell me what I’m facing.”</p><p>“That’s right. And I’ve already told you too much,” Gaoran said firmly. “But it should be enough. You can’t use anything with its own spiritual power. Physical barriers, or negative qi, that’s all. I’ll help you however I can, but there’s no way I can protect a place this big alone.”</p><p>Xichen eventually nodded his agreement. It was decided after some discussion, and advice from Lan Qiren, that the Cloud Recesses would be temporarily covered with netting normally used to trap demons. It had a qi neutralizing effect itself and would take extreme force to break. On the slim chance it was broken, Xichen also designed one further inner barrier around the perimeter of the complex, which would alert him, the clan elders, and Gaoran all simultaneously to any intruder. </p><p>That evening, as they were still laying the vast net, it started to rain. All the lanes and avenues of the Cloud Recesses were full of disciples rushing back and forth to complete the preparations. Xichen became worried when he realized he hadn’t seen Gaoran for some time. He eventually found him alone, digging a hole for fitting one of the posts that would hold up the net. He could see even at a distance the way Gaoran was barely staying on his feet. </p><p>“Gaoran,” Xichen said worriedly, approaching him. “You should not be out in this weather.”</p><p>Gaoran looked up with a surprisingly innocent expression for a moment, stopping his shoveling and gazing at Lan Xichen’s feet. “Wait,” he said, holding up a hand while Xichen was still a few steps away. “Don’t walk over here. The ground is all muddy. Your clothes...”</p><p>Xichen blinked at him in wonder. He was worried about Gaoran dying. While this man was worried about getting mud on Xichen’s clothes. He sighed. “If you prefer to be carried, I can wait until you collapse again. Then your health and my clothes will both be ruined anyway,” Xichen said with an ironic smile.</p><p>To his further shock, even though his face was turned down toward the ground, he was sure he caught a hint of a smile from Gaoran’s profile. “It’s not a bad way to travel,” he murmured in a gently joking voice.</p><p>Xichen covered his mouth to hide a soft chuckle.</p><p>“Just this one,” Gaoran insisted, turning his back so that his body would block mud from going in Xichen’s direction.</p><p>“At least let me-“ Xichen began to say, reaching out with his umbrella to hold it over Gaoran as he worked.</p><p>Unfortunately, perhaps because his mind was elsewhere, the great Zewu-jun had a moment of unusual clumsiness. His foot hit one of the very patches of mud that Gaoran had warned him about, and he made a quiet noise of distress as he became unbalanced. </p><p>At the sound, Gaoran turned and quickly dropped his shovel to catch him. He landed with a puff of silk and small splash of mud in Gaoran’s arms. Xichen could feel his own cheeks glowing bright red with embarrassment, grateful the other man couldn’t see his face at this angle. </p><p>He opened his mouth to apologize, but somehow he lost his words. The appropriate moment to speak came and went, and for many long seconds, the two remained embracing in silence. Gaoran’s hold on him didn’t loosen in the slightest. Xichen’s breathing became uneven. And then, he felt the fingers of the man who had stolen his first kiss tighten over his back, and he felt a deep inhale against his hair. </p><p>A shiver of electricity ran down Xichen’s body. Even though the rain was bitterly cold, somehow he felt warm. His hands helplessly tightened over Gaoran’s shoulders, not knowing exactly what he wanted but feeling somehow deprived. He wanted Gaoran to do something for him. But in his innocence, he still had no idea what this feeling meant. </p><p>Slowly, Gaoran’s fingers loosened. The warm feeling faded as he grasped Xichen by his arms and pulled back slightly, making sure he was stable. When he could see his face, Gaoran looked unexpectedly just as troubled as Xichen felt, but at first he didn’t seem to be able to manage to say anything either. </p><p>“I’m sorry…” he murmured, almost inaudibly soft beneath the sound of the rain. “You look…like…someone who was very dear to me. Sometimes…I get confused.”</p><p>Xichen’s breath came with difficulty. His eyes began to sting even before he realized why. That warm feeling just now had not been for him. To Gaoran, Lan Xichen was nothing. No more than a painful echo of his past. Even knowing intellectually that being called “Er-ge” had had a similar effect on him did not make it any less painful. </p><p>“It’s…nothing to apologize for,” he forced himself to say. He hoped he sounded polite. That was all he had a right to be.</p><p>Gaoran picked up Xichen’s umbrella, which he had dropped as he fell. The oiled paper bore some drops of mud on it, which he shook off before handing it back. He looked up at Xichen with uncertainty. “I’ll be gone before you know it,” he assured him softly, perhaps assuming that the hitch in Xichen’s voice was from discomfort or displeasure.</p><p>Each time he said words like this, it seemed to hurt even worse. Xichen nevertheless nodded graciously and took two steps back, watching Gaoran work for a moment to make sure he wouldn’t collapse. When he seemed stable enough for the moment, Xichen wordlessly turned and left. </p><p>He wandered around for some time, heading vaguely back toward the Cold Chamber. But he was not paying sufficient attention to where he was going, and at one point nearly bumped into Sizhui. “Forgive me, Zewu-jun,” said the obedient disciple. </p><p>“It was my mistake,” Xichen replied, attempting a smile but quite certain he did not manage it. </p><p>Sizhui’s eyes passed to Xichen’s hands, then back up to his face with a trace of worry. “Zewu-jun…aren’t you going to use your umbrella?”</p><p>Xichen blinked. He too looked down at his hands to discover he was still holding it from when Gaoran had handed it back to him. His chest ached as he realized that warm feeling and the cold one that followed it were all because he simply wanted to keep him out of the rain for a few moments. He felt so foolish.</p><p>“Oh. It’s all right. I’m already wet,” he answered vaguely.</p><p>Sizhui was a little too clever to buy such a halfhearted explanation as this. His kind eyes took in Xichen’s appearance and then flicked over his shoulder to where Gaoran was. His expression grew troubled. “Clan Leader…do you need assistance with anything?” he asked in a soft undertone.</p><p>“Assistance?” he asked curiously, genuinely feeling a little better for receiving Sizhui’s concern. “Not at all. But I will go inside. Take care you don’t stay out too long either.”</p><p>Sizhui nodded, but his expression did not clear. “Zewu-jun,” he murmured, bowing and reluctantly going on his way. </p><p>…</p><p>Sizhui remained troubled as evening fell. He had not had an opportunity to interact with the newcomer very much, as he no longer required basic martial arts training. While he sat down to dinner with his roommate, Jingyi, he was eating so slowly in his distraction that Jingyi became annoyed. </p><p>“Can you hurry up? I don’t want to have to take the dishes back in the dark,” he complained between bites of pickled vegetables.</p><p>Sizhui picked up the same piece of rice that he had now picked up and dropped twice, still deep in thought. “Jingyi…if Zewu-jun were to be heartbroken again…do you think it would be even worse than the last time?”</p><p>“Nh? Heartbroken?” Jingyi repeated curiously, frowning as he chewed.</p><p>Sizhui nodded soberly. “He was in seclusion for over a month.”</p><p>“Ah? That was because Lianfang-zun betrayed him and killed Chifeng-zun, wasn’t it?”</p><p>Sizhui shook his head. “To tell you the truth, I’m sure it was more than that.” Though Jingyi didn’t seem to understand, he also didn’t seem very concerned about the issue, so he finished his dinner while Sizhui was still thinking. Finally, Sizhui said, “If…that seemed likely to happen again…shouldn’t we do something?”</p><p>Jingyi was now concentrating on removing a stuck piece of herbs from between his teeth with his tongue. “Like what?”</p><p>At this, however, Sizhui was silenced. Not only did he have no ideas for how to prevent such a tragedy from repeating itself in their clan leader’s life, he still wasn’t certain it was his moral duty, or even whether he had the right. And yet the thought of seeing Lan Xichen so broken again…that was something he could not bear. He barely slept that night as he came to the gradual conclusion that he simply could not let that happen.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Barking Dog</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zewu-jun receives an urgent message from the Chief Cultivator, and journeys with Gaoran to the Unclean Realm. They meet certain a pair of newlyweds on the way.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Feng Jun had never had the urge to learn cultivation, for as long as he could remember. He was physically the strongest child at the monastery, so the monks often relied on him any hard or dangerous work that needed doing. Their relatively secluded mountain temple was rarely a target of any ghouls or demons either. As far as he was concerned, cultivation just a waste of time.</p><p>Only two of the other children were older than A-Jun. The second eldest of them was his closest friend at the time, but poor health often kept him absent from many of the daily activities. Xu Jiaofei. He was like the living saint of the monastery, at least as far as A-Jun was concerned. </p><p>“A-Jun,” he said with a smile that always made A-Jun feel warm and at home. At this time, he must have been nearing seventeen, while A-Jun was fourteen. Despite being the elder of the two, he stood a few inches shorter than A-Jun, and his frail appearance made him look even younger. No matter the occasion, even when he was often in pain or barely able to move, his expression was always soothing, always showing more care for A-Jun than for himself.</p><p>The slender boy was in the middle of making a copy of one of the monastery’s most precious sutras, a trade the monks were glad to be able to teach him. A-Jun, as ever, could not manage a smile despite the happiness he felt to be around Jiaofei-ge, but came in and silently added wood to the brazier in the center of the room. </p><p>“What did you do today?” Jiaofei asked him, as he did almost every day.</p><p>“Fed the chickens, weeded the garden, chopped wood,” A-Jun listed off after a small pause, his voice relatively lifeless but aware how important it was for Jiaofei-ge to hear about the activities happening outside his little room. “Got scolded by Li Daozhang for not cleaning the water bucket properly before using it. There’s a leak in the Abbot’s quarters somewhere that’s making the room drafty, so later I’ll go take a look.”</p><p>“You’re so busy…you don’t have to come every day, you know,” Jiaofei murmured softly, curling in on himself somewhat.</p><p>“…if you don’t like it, I’ll ask one of the others,” A-Jun muttered, getting up to leave with a deep wound that he pretended not to notice in himself.</p><p>“Ah! A-Jun, stay, I didn’t mean that. On the contrary, I only feel bad that you’re so generous with your time with me.” A weak smile. “I can’t do anything in return.”</p><p>After a moment of hesitation, A-Jun knelt before the brazier again and tended it idly. “Then we’re the same,” A-Jun muttered. In his heart, he added silently, ‘You take away everything that hurts me, but I can’t make you better.’</p><p>But despite A-Jun’s gruff and awkward attempt to cheer him, it seemed to have worked. Jiaofei-ge’s smile brightened and simultaneously pierced and warmed A-Jun’s young heart. “In that case, stay as long as you like. And tell me about Li Daozhang’s angry face. I bet he got red, didn't he?”</p><p>Life in the monastery had its ups and downs, but was very peaceful. When A-Jun was fifteen, however, the monks took in a traveler who was sick and clearly half starved, whom they had found hunched down beside the temple as if preparing to die. From the first moment Feng Jun looked at her, he could see the eyes of a caged animal. As much as he felt danger from her, she had a presence that was so filled with life, she was dazzling to him.</p><p>Her name was Tie Wenting. She dressed in hard silver shades, and despite the way they initially found her, took great care and pride in her appearance as a rule. Her cat-like eyes seemed to glitter with intelligence and danger even when her expression was unreadable. She had luxuriant black hair which always seemed mane-like, which she bound in a silver, geometric diadem. It seemed to be a symbol of a noble cultivation sect, but she refused to say one way or the other. In fact, Feng Jun doubted whether Tie was even her real name. </p><p>“What?” she growled softly over a cup of tea. The monks were cautiously attempting to pry some further details from her life, but at some point she had ended up asking the questions instead. “The tall boy, the one I saw chopping wood…he’s never had any cultivation training at all?”</p><p>“…that’s right,” said the abbot. He was a kind man but quite distant with everyone. Even though Feng Jun was in the room at the time, he didn’t even glance toward him. “Feng Jun has other duties.”</p><p>Wenting’s catlike eyes narrowed. She drew back slightly as if sizing up her prey. “I’ll be charitable and assume you simply can’t see his potential. Even so, you must realize that if he does not begin forming a golden core soon, he may never be able to at all.”</p><p>The abbot bowed his head minimally without a change in expression. “That is his choice.”</p><p>Even across the room, Feng Jun felt an almost physical wave of energy from her. He eventually realized, though little could be discerned from her expression, that there was anger in her eyes. At the time, Feng Jun hadn’t understood quite why she was so angry. </p><p>It took her weeks to convince him, but he eventually agreed to let her train him. Not long after, he left his home to travel and train with her, bound mostly by an unbending admiration for her. At some point, though he could not pinpoint it himself, he fell in love with her too. When he turned eighteen, he asked her to be his cultivation partner. She told him he was an idiot and a child. But less than a week later, she kissed him out of the blue and told him she would, as long as he would stop talking sentimental nonsense and just train. He could tell she was saying these things to protect him. It made him love her all the more.</p><p>“Where is the other one?”</p><p>The rain felt far louder than before, as her question rang painfully in the air between them, on that last night that he had seen her. And Jiaofei-ge. Gaoran gathered his hatred for her as he slowly looked up to meet her gaze with a defiant one of his own. </p><p>“You’ll kill me whether I tell you or not,” he replied softly.</p><p>She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. He could see the emotion leave her eyes as she ruthlessly cut off everything he had ever meant to her. He knew she was doing it because she felt she had to. For her survival. He understood. But he didn’t care.</p><p>“So,” Gaoran said softly. He glanced down once more at her sword, Baiyin, as he felt it was somewhat easier to say goodbye to that instead. “I’d better just get on with it then.”</p><p>He wasn’t thinking much as he leaned back and gave himself over to equal forces of gravity and despair. He couldn’t see in the darkness and rain whether Wenting watched him as he fell. He tumbled down the slope and crashed into the cold water, thinking that oddly his own namesake, a high bank, in the end, would be his undoing. </p><p>…</p><p>The night that they put up the spirit nets, the Cloud Recesses slept soundly without intrusion. It did little to ease Gaoran’s discomfort here, nor the fact that the looks he got from these sheltered disciples had increased in intensity, on a range from terrified to starry-eyed fascination. But among them, there was one cold and bitter gaze that he failed to notice.</p><p>The following day, he finished training the younger disciples and went to Lan Xichen’s office in order to ask if there were any less labor-intensive tasks he could do to help as well. As he was approaching the door, however, a flash of white darted past him. </p><p>“Excuse me, Master Feng,” said the disciple. Gaoran thought he must have imagined a somewhat bitter glance back toward him as he said this. The disciple knocked on the door. “Zewu-jun, Sizhui is here to collect the duty roster for tomorrow.”</p><p>Though Gaoran did find it a little odd that the one of the faultlessly courteous disciples of the Gusu Lan Sect would cut in front of a guest for the sake of daily business that seemed quite low-priority, he also recognized the fact that he was closer to an interloper himself, and as such, was owed no such courtesy. He waited patiently outside for the disciple to finish his business. </p><p>Before he had, though, yet another disciple rushed inside, barely giving himself time to bow and ask permission to enter. “Zewu-jun!” he said breathlessly. “An urgent message from the Chief Cultivator!”</p><p>Even from outside, Gaoran heard Zewu-jun let out a soft sigh. He had heard rumors that the Chief Cultivator was rather emotionally dependent upon the head of the Gusu Lan Sect. Apparently, there was some truth to them. </p><p>“Yes, bring it in.”</p><p>After a few moments of reading, an older, dignified man’s voice, “Xichen. What is it?”</p><p>A momentary pause, and a deeper sigh this time. “Our problem…is not only our own, it seems.” There was a sound of paper rustling, as he evidently handed the message over to the older man to view as well. “Huaisang is calling for the all the heads of the four major clans to meet and discuss the threat of these…he calls them ‘jiangshi.’”</p><p>Gaoran could not stand to listen to a word more. He flung open the door and left his courtesy behind him. “Zewu-jun. I have to go with you.”</p><p>“Gaoran…” Lan Xichen murmured at his entrance, taken aback. </p><p>The older cultivator, seated across from Zewu-jun, cleared his throat irritably at the sudden intrusion.</p><p>“Master Feng!” said the one called Sizhui, turning to him and holding up his hands to herd him back out of the room. “This is the head office of our sect, and Zewu-jun’s personal study. You must not enter without permission.”</p><p>Gaoran ignored him completely and met Zewu-jun’s gaze from over the much smaller man’s head. “I’m the only one who knows the first thing about how to deal with her. And if I leave, the danger should also go with me.”</p><p>Zewu-jun closed his eyes in disapproval. He shook his head slowly. “G-…Master Feng,” he amended, after a self-conscious glance toward the old master. “You are still in no state to travel.”</p><p>“Master Feng,” said the older cultivator, without rising from his seat across from Lan Xichen. “If you have information on these monsters, it is your responsibility to share it.”</p><p>Gaoran took a step back and clasped his hands before him to bow. “Forgive me, Master. It is impossible.”</p><p>The old master raised a dubious brow. “Explain.”</p><p>It was Lan Xichen to said in a pacifying, but also doubtful tone, “…Master Feng claims that any knowledge of these creatures makes one a target of their creator.”</p><p>The older man scoffed. “Preposterous. The alternative is to simply accept destruction in helpless ignorance. Nothing can be done without knowledge.”</p><p>“That is why I must go-“ Gaoran began.</p><p>But then Sizhui turned, stepped in front of him, bowed and said, “Zewu-jun, Sizhui also humbly recommends caution. There is no proof that these monsters are not of Master Feng’s own creation. It is possible that access to the Chief Cultivator was his original aim. Traveling alone with Zewu-jun is out of the question.”</p><p>Lan Xichen blinked in shock at this accusation. After a moment of surprise himself, Gaoran realized it was a natural assumption based on what these young disciples had seen of him so far. He said nothing, knowing that speaking rashly in a situation like this would just increase suspicion toward him. </p><p>To Gaoran’s surprise, however, neither Lan Xichen nor the old master appeared entirely convinced. In a steady and dignified voice, the master asked Sizhui, “Your evidence for saying so?”</p><p>“With respect, Master, it is the most logical conclusion. If a technique exists which is a mystery to masters of orthodox cultivation techniques, a single source of origin is a simpler, and therefore a more likely explanation than multiple origins.” This disciple spoke without excessive emotion, in a pleasant and polite voice that even had Gaoran himself questioning whether he had any ill will by the end. </p><p>He saw Lan Xichen’s eyes flick down to Gaoran’s leg, and he could guess his thoughts. ‘An innocent person doesn’t find themselves cursed.’ But moments later, the softening of Xichen’s expression belied this interpretation. </p><p>“Sizhui’s logic is sound,” Zewu-jun said. But then he smiled and continued, “Either Master Feng is an evil mastermind who engineered some new form of fell beast, and a method to fight them, or a sick Taoist barely able to keep his feet under him. I find it hard to believe that he is both.”</p><p>Gaoran sighed and raised an eyebrow at Zewu-jun. “My defense is infirmity?” </p><p>Xichen simply smiled and shrugged, but added a glance toward his leg that suggested Gaoran take a look at himself before getting offended. Xichen rose from his seat. “From his last letter, Wangji and Master Wei should still be in Langya at this time. If we ride the sword, we can reach them before nightfall and travel together from there. Will that satisfy my nervous disciple?”</p><p>Sizhui hesitated, obviously having now been publicly embarrassed and having no right to disagree with his sect leader in the first place. And yet he bowed again and insisted, “Then…would you permit Sizhui to accompany you as well?”</p><p>“Mm. I think that’s wise.” As Xichen walked past them toward the door, he added with a slight smile, while watching Gaoran, “One of us may need to carry Master Feng part of the way, after all. Two sets of arms would be better than one.”</p><p>Gaoran sighed, in spite of the flicker of warmth in his heart at Xichen’s gentleness toward him. He truly couldn’t understand this ethereal gentleman. Whenever he seemed to be just a mild-mannered monk, he showed a subtle but steady, merciless strength. When he seemed rightfully angry or suspicious, he softened and showed instead compassion and even affection. Was there really a human this perfect, or had this man’s natural strength made him naïve toward certain realities that plagued others?</p><p>The group soon set off in order to reach Langya by nightfall. Gaoran only realized during the journey the significance of the names, ‘Wangji and Master Wei.’ Even someone as jaded as he felt a small flicker of gratitude at the opportunity to meet the infamous cut-sleeve couple that were now universally acknowledged cultivation partners. Though Gaoran liked women too, his love for Jiaofei-ge made him feel he must not quite be normal, so from a young age he strangely began to hold cut-sleeve men in high regard.</p><p>That said, he was apparently not prepared for what one particular cut-sleeve was like to be around in real life.</p><p>When they arrived at the inn where Wei Wuxian and Hanguang-jun were said to be staying, they could already hear raucous laughter from inside one of the rooms. As someone who had grown up in a monastery, Gaoran was instantly a little annoyed by anyone who disturbed the public peace. The group was invited to wait inside a courtyard below, while one of the inn’s staff went to ask whether Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian could see some visitors.</p><p>Moments later, the window of one of the rooms above opened. A drunk flopped himself out onto the veranda, only half dressed and with messy and somewhat sweat-streaked hair tumbling over his face and shoulders. He squinted down at them and grinned as he recognized Lan Xichen.</p><p>“Lan-gege!” he called in a voice that echoed through the courtyard. A dog barked in the distance. “You handsome old devil, you…mm? What are you doing in my room?”</p><p>Gaoran’s enthusiasm to meet the fabled Hanguang-jun and Wei Wuxian quickly dwindled. This? he couldn’t help thinking. This was the Yiling Patriarch?</p><p>Fortunately at that moment, an elegant and white-clothed arm reached around his precocious husband and pulled him part of the way inside. “Xiong-zhang. Please come up,” said a stoic voice. </p><p>Gaoran only caught a glimpse from the angle, but for a moment he thought his eyes were playing tricks. Though his voice was deeper, it almost looked like there were two Zewu-juns. </p><p>They were brought up to the couple’s room, and Lan Wangji offered them all tea. He did so without a change in expression, despite the fact that a drunk was consistently hanging off his body and flirting with him in all of their presence. </p><p>“Lan-er,” Wei Wuxian whined a little at one point, thumping his head against Lan Wangji’s chest. “I didn’t get enough. Come on, don’t be so cold to me. Touch my-mm. Mm? Mmmm!”</p><p>Wei Wuxian’s lips seemed stuck together and he could barely make any noise at all. In frustration, he tugged on Lan Wangji’s clothes for some time, thumping him several more times with his head before meekly settling down in his lap. </p><p>The stoic and emotionless Lan Wangji raised a fist to cover his own mouth as he cleared his throat. “Food,” he said flatly. No one else in the room understood what he meant. He therefore elaborated, in such a bold-faced lie that it made Gaoran’s teeth hurt, “Wei Ying did not get enough food for dinner.”</p><p>Lan Xichen correspondingly offered a slightly forced laugh. “Please, no need to explain, Wangji. We are disturbing you. I normally would never dare to interrupt your private time, but Huaisang sent an urgent message to all the clan leaders this afternoon.”</p><p>Xichen produced the letter from his qiankun sleeve and passed it over to his brother. Lan Wangji read the letter silently and expressionlessly. The drunk creature in his lap also looked over with interest, but was so drunk that he had to push his face up nearly against the paper to read it. Lan Wangji patiently rested a hand on top of his head and moved him enough to one side so that they could both read. </p><p>Gaoran had mixed feelings while observing this strange couple. Though the two brothers were obviously similar in physical appearance, his first thought on seeing Lan Wangji properly was surprise that he did not seem to resemble Jiaofei-ge in the slightest. Though it would have been impossible to call him ‘unattractive,’ this man was hard and cold everywhere that his brother was soft and warm. Gaoran had not yet noticed this about himself, but his own low self-esteem caused him to feel at best indifferent toward those who did not express their emotions well. And though this Lan Wangji had the typical Lan air of discipline and righteousness to him, he also clearly lacked the elder’s social graces. In the end, Gaoran’s first impression of him was not particularly good.</p><p>It was perhaps with a blend of irritation and jealousy that Gaoran then added the rambunctious drunk in his arms to the image. Though he clearly had personality differences between these two, Gaoran could tell at once from their every action that they were entirely devoted to one another. Perhaps even more movingly, they seemed to understand each other on a level Gaoran had not known was possible. Seeing them reminded him of how entirely unlikely it was for him to ever find such a one.</p><p>“‘Jiangshi’?” Wangji asked his brother as he finished reading. Wei Wuxian had given up his attempts to read the letter by now and was already half asleep against Lan Wangji’s chest.</p><p>Zewu-jun nodded. “A formidable monster. But perhaps…I should explain when Master Wei is feeling a little better. We will stay here for tonight, but then, will you both accompany us to the Unclean Realm in the morning?”</p><p>Lan Wangji nodded, and though it was difficult to judge, Gaoran thought he looked eager to help. </p><p>They therefore left the couple for the night and went to procure some rooms of their own. Unfortunately, the inn only had two remaining. Gaoran thought he saw Lan Xichen’s gaze briefly meet his own before hurriedly looking away. He thought he understood. No doubt the innocent sect leader was still feeling somewhat awkward around Gaoran after he had hugged him like that, claiming he was thinking of someone else as well. </p><p>At that moment, Sizhui quickly said, “Then Zewu-jun, please rest on your own. Master Feng and I will share a room.”</p><p>Though he took a slight pause before doing so, Xichen offered a kind smile and nodded. “Then I’ll accept your kindness.”</p><p>They therefore followed the staff to each of their separate rooms, leaving Lan Xichen in his own first. Gaoran walked silently beside Sizhui as they were led to their own. Though the young disciple was faultlessly polite with the staff who showed them inside and told them to call if they needed anything, the moment the door closed, the warmth in the young man’s face seemed to vanish. </p><p>“…Master Feng,” said Sizhui, still in a soft and gentle voice, though Gaoran could feel the tension in the air before he even spoke his mind. “May I ask, what are your intentions toward Zewu-jun?”</p><p>The question caught Gaoran completely off guard. He didn’t know what this kid had in mind, all that was clear was that he did not seem to like him. If so, there was little point in trying to spend any time or effort trying to ingratiate himself.</p><p>“If I could defeat her on my own, I would do so. Those are my 'intentions,'” Gaoran grunted, moving over to one of the two beds and laying down on his back, already tired from travel.</p><p>Lan Sizhui’s fists tightened at his sides, his anger only increasing at this response. “I see. At any rate, you have no deeper feelings for him. Is that correct?”</p><p>Gaoran scowled up at him, wanting this conversation to be over. “I’m grateful to him. How else should I feel?”</p><p>“So it is not your intention to manipulate him, by using his feelings for the one he truly loved to your own purposes?” Sizhui asked him in a soft, cold voice.</p><p>Gaoran’s eyes narrowed. “Is that what I’m doing?” he asked with equal coldness. </p><p>Sizhui seemed to be trembling slightly where he stood as he sought to control his anger. Gaoran had intended the remark to sound incredulous, but only realized later that it could be interpreted as just the opposite. Instead he had deepened this young disciple’s distrust of him.</p><p>“Zewu-jun is too trusting,” admitted the disciple, a sentiment he should normally never voice toward his most venerated sect leader, even in private. “His heart is too easily captured by men trying to serve their own purposes. But I will not allow him to be hurt again. Master Feng,” he said, turning a slightly reddened gaze to Gaoran. “I will tell you something that I hope will put to rest any plot you may have in mind. The Lan can only ever love one person, in all their life. Over ten generations, there has been no exception. Zewu-jun’s heart was gone…long before he ever set eyes on a poor Taoist from a nameless temple.”</p><p>Gaoran could sense that there were deep emotions that came with this confession from the trembling young man. Unfortunately for both of them, this was the kind of behavior Gaoran himself found most admirable. Sizhui’s attempts to make an enemy of him had only succeeded in earning his respect. </p><p>He had no idea what to think of the content of his speech, however. He didn’t understand how love had come into the conversation at all. Yes, Lan Xichen resembled Jiaofei-ge. But they were clearly different people. Not to mention, in addition to being simply preposterously unattainable in looks, family pedigree, wealth and even cultivation, Zewu-jun was fundamentally not even Gaoran’s type. His ‘type’ was informed of course by the frail young man in his memories. Love, for Gaoran, meant being depended upon by someone fragile and gentle. It meant care and protection. But Zewu-jun was stronger than he was.</p><p>“Understood,” Gaoran said, more to end the conversation than because it was actually true.</p><p>Sizhui turned away and quickly rubbed his eyes, clearly upset with himself for getting worked up as well. The two went to sleep that night silently facing away from each other across the room. Gaoran’s last thought before he went to sleep was idle wondering about the person Lan Xichen had loved before. He wondered what kind of person they were. And why they weren't here.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Note: Jiaofei-ge’s full name is Xu Rěn 徐荵, courtesy name Jiàofēi 皭霏.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Kiss in the Dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Xichen tries to help Gaoran through a painful experience, but ends up much worse off himself.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The song Xichen sings is a poem, “Singing My Cares I” by Ruan Ji (210-263), translation by Stephen Owen.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sizhui was indeed angry with himself. Even though it seemed as though this Feng Gaoran had no intention of assuaging his concerns, Sizhui still felt he had sounded like a petty child just now. His heart was still pounding from anger, and he couldn’t sleep despite earnest attempts.</p><p>After tossing and turning for almost two hours in a semi-sleep state, Sizhui noticed a sound he was not used to. A grinding noise, like stones creaking together. Harsh breathing. Finally, a trace of a held back moan of pain. </p><p>He gasped and sat up in bed with his sword in hand, at first expecting some demon that had snuck into the room. He gradually came to realize that the noise was coming from Feng Gaoran’s bed. He hurried over to find him contorted in agony, grasping onto his leg with a white-knuckled grip. There were curse marks clearly visible at his ankle. </p><p>Only a momentary examination confirmed he did not have either the skills or the spiritual power to heal this. He wasn’t even sure he could survive touching it. “Hang on,” he murmured simply, and raced out of the room toward Zewu-jun’s.<br/>
.<br/>
…</p><p>When Lan Xichen was awoken suddenly that night, he only registered brief surprise at Sizhui’s panicked expression. He did not need to ask what the problem was, and wordlessly followed him back to his room. </p><p>By the time they returned, Gaoran was unable to mask his pained moans. Veins were emerging in his neck and forehead as his body was wracked with pain. Xichen sat on the bed beside him and did not hesitate to grasp his wrist, feeding him spiritual energy immediately to dull the pain. </p><p>His intention was only to do this for a short time until he could play Liebing for him. But from his continued tense trembling and tortured expression, Xichen’s intervention was barely taking the edge off. He feared letting go and allowing the pain to continue escalating. Without a better option, he gathered his courage, as he was not at all confident about his skills in this area. He took a breath.</p><p>“In the night I could not sleep,<br/>
rising, then sitting, I plucked my zither.<br/>
The thin curtain gave the image of the bright moon,<br/>
a cool breeze blew on the folds of my robes.<br/>
A lone swan cried out in the wilderness,<br/>
winging birds sang in the woods to the north.<br/>
I paced about, what might I see?<br/>
worried thoughts wounded my heart alone.”</p><p>To Xichen’s relief, his voice seemed to soothe Gaoran more effectively than spiritual energy. After having sung the poem all the way through, the dark figure beneath him hesitantly opened his eyes, gazing up at him from those forbidding eyes with a complex emotion. </p><p>Xichen swallowed, a strange sensation rising up in his chest and making him feel nervous. “Sizhui,” he said quietly. “Perhaps it would be best if I stayed here tonight. I cannot say how long it will take to ease Master Feng’s pain. Please take my room instead.”</p><p>Xichen was surprised when Sizhui did not readily obey. When he glanced up at him, the young man’s expression was only softly troubled, but his fists at his sides were clenched. If he had an objection, though, he seemed unable to find a justification to raise it.</p><p>Clasping his hands in a bow, Sizhui muttered, “Zewu-jun,” and after another moment of hesitation, reluctantly took his leave. </p><p>Gaoran’s eyes had closed again and he seemed to be trying to conceal his pain. At least he was no longer shaking with it, however, so Xichen quickly checked the progress of the curse. Unsurprisingly, the frighteningly dark flesh covered most of Gaoran’s lower leg and reached up past where Xichen could easily see without disrobing him. </p><p>When he moved the fabric back to where it was, he might have inadvertently brushed a painful place, because his hand was suddenly snatched up in Gaoran’s in a tight grasp. </p><p>“…-ge…” Gaoran whispered without looking at him. To Xichen’s shock, he then pulled that hand up to hold it covetously against his chest for a moment. He then brought it to his lips and kissed the back of Xichen’s fingers with great gentleness, despite his own pain. “Er-ge…Er-ge…” he whispered repeatedly, almost as if trying to cast a spell and bring him near.</p><p>Xichen’s heart was torn apart. It wasn’t just the memories of Jin Guangyao that flooded his chest and made him feel choked, but knowing that this man was in pain, and to find comfort, was desperately seeking someone who was gone. There was no doubt in Xichen’s mind, despite Gaoran’s reticence about explaining his own past, that the person he said he “had loved” was no longer in this world, not that he had simply fallen out of love. He probably still hadn’t come to terms with that, and was unconsciously missing and seeking him out whenever his guard was lowered.</p><p>And how could Xichen help him? His heart sank as he even thought about it. Could anything help someone who had lost someone they loved? Xichen had experienced it himself, and he still didn’t know the answer. All he knew was that, were he in Gaoran’s position, he would have clung to the faintest hope.</p><p>“Be at ease,” he whispered, attempting to keep his voice unrecognizable. “Er-ge is here.”</p><p>Gaoran’s somewhat dull eyes looked up at him hopefully. He seemed to be trying to seek out his loved one’s face in Xichen’s, the darkness and his own lingering pain aiding the endeavor. While unwilling to let go of Xichen’s hand that he still held against his chest, he raised his other hand to caress his cheek so softly that Xichen barely felt it. </p><p>His black eyes grew gradually red, and tears dripped down on either side of his cheeks, while emotional pain this time streaked his face. “Jiaofei-ge,” he whispered helplessly, again running the backs of his fingers down Xichen’s cheek. “I’m so sorry…”</p><p>Though the pain of seeing Gaoran’s tears affected Xichen much more deeply than he could allow himself to admit, he instinctively shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, of course having no idea whether this were true, but sensing that Gaoran needed to hear it.</p><p>Gaoran merely closed his eyes and more tears fell down his cheeks. “I should have stopped her.”</p><p>Xichen could not help falling silent at this, waiting for Gaoran to explain further. </p><p>Instead Gaoran shook his head softly in self-deprecation. “You’re worth a thousand of her. Why didn’t I act sooner?” At this, his dark eyes turned up to Xichen’s again, but this time without any hope. “Have you come to take me to hell?” he asked without emotion.</p><p>Xichen’s chest still hurt badly from seeing Gaoran’s tears, and at this soft, hopeless question, he was briefly overwhelmed. He quickly recovered himself and shook his head firmly. “You have done nothing wrong. Anyone can see, you’re not that kind of person. Jiaofei knows this too.”</p><p>Gaoran’s eyes took on a hint of confusion. He frowned sharply as if his head hurt. He turned away. “Xichen,” he muttered simply. Xichen tried not to feel a great deal of pain at the note of disappointment in his voice.</p><p>Even so, for a few moments, Xichen could not manage anything to say. He wondered if Gaoran would be angry with him for pretending to be this Jiaofei. Even if he wasn’t, there was no changing the fact that Xichen was unable to help him feel any better, either due to that loss or this curse on his leg.</p><p>“I’m sorry…to have troubled you again,” Gaoran murmured in a dull, gray voice that was nothing like the one he had been using to Jiaofei.</p><p>“It troubles me if you are in pain, and I could not bear leaving you so,” Xichen countered softly. “You do not need to apologize for my meddling. I’ll do my best, so please try to rest as soon as you can. Is there anything else that would help?”</p><p>Gaoran covered his face with his hand as if in shame. But to Xichen’s surprise, his other hand did not let go of Xichen’s, but rather tightened over it. He could tell Gaoran was holding back from saying what he wanted.</p><p>“…tell me,” Xichen urged softly, against his better judgement. For some reason, his heart was pounding before he even heard what it was.</p><p>It still took Gaoran another few moments of hesitation before he finally admitted, “It helps…to touch you.”</p><p>Xichen’s breath hitched. He couldn’t say why some of the gloom in his heart lifted at hearing these words. Was he really so similar to Gaoran’s Jiaofei? Even their touch was similar? It couldn’t be.</p><p>“Would…” he could the word leaving his mouth before the thought fully formed in his mind, and his pale face was overtaken by a hot blush. He looked away for a moment as he considered whether he could really say such an outrageous thing.  But whether because it was past his normal bedtime and he was still somewhat dazed, or whether Gaoran’s tears had affected him more than he realized, eventually the words came out seemingly of their own accord. </p><p>“Would a kiss be better?”</p><p>He immediately flushed even darker and was utterly mortified by hearing the words out loud. He was terrified that Gaoran would be disgusted by the suggestion. What was wrong with him? He had never been so bold, not even with A-Yao. His hand, even held against Gaoran’s chest, began to tremble.</p><p>But rather than express shock or disgust, Gaoran’s grasp on his hand tightened once more as his expression grew tortured. “What is this altruism of yours?” he asked in a hoarse voice. “I’m just a worthless Taoist. A stranger. Don’t be so open-hearted.”</p><p>Xichen lowered his gaze, embarrassment giving way to shame. As he thought, it was an inappropriate thing to say. He again felt a tightness in his chest and throat. How would he bear with the shame of this tomorrow?</p><p>Moments later, however, Gaoran curled in on himself, holding Xichen’s hand tight against his chest. “I’m lying,” he whispered. “If you mean that…please let me…”</p><p>Xichen’s chest tightened. He found difficulty drawing breath. Gaoran wasn’t looking down on him? He had agreed? Despite being the one who suggested it, excitement and nervousness froze him into inaction for several moments as he gazed down at Gaoran. </p><p>The other man turned to look up at him searchingly. In the dark, Xichen felt an urge to be nearer to him, to share his warmth, but it was still difficult to act first. Instead, Gaoran reached his hands around Xichen’s neck, gently bringing himself up while pulling Xichen down. Making certain once more with a cautious look at his eyes, Gaoran leaned his head in closer. Xichen felt his breath against his lips. Far from feeling tightly stopped, Xichen’s own breath was now racing, so he blushed at the thought of what Gaoran must think. That normally forbidding face, at such close distance and in the glow of moonlight, looked only softly tormented and tender. </p><p>A cautious touch, Gaoran’s upper lip brushing his own, almost like a beast licking another’s wound. Xichen’s body flooded with heat almost immediately. He struggled to control his breathing as the touch grew more intense, both Gaoran’s lips pressing gently against his own. Gentle pressure gave way to deeper need, Gaoran’s hands urging him ever closer from behind as if kissing alone were not enough.</p><p>Xichen’s heart was pounding so loudly in his ears that he couldn’t think. He struggled not to hyperventilate. So many sensations threatened to overwhelm him. He could feel another person’s body heat, and smell his skin. Gaoran’s lightest shifting of his fingers over the back of his neck and hair sent shivers down his spine. Empathy for Gaoran’s pain and relief at being finally accepted by him, however, brought a feeling of warmth that rivaled all others. It not only warmed the core of his chest, but it brought heat to a certain part between his legs, which he felt sure must make him a wanton.</p><p>Xichen had heard many stories here and there about kissing, but this was only the second time in his life that he had experienced it. The first time had been over so quickly he almost didn’t know it had happened. He quickly became nervous, not knowing how he should act. But Gaoran’s lips actively teased at his own, encouraging him to indulge however he wanted. This made the heat between his legs even harder to ignore.</p><p>Gaoran’s hands reached around his back and pulled him more firmly, and Xichen helplessly tumbled into the bed beside him. He lay there wrapped in Gaoran’s arms and halfheartedly attempting to return his kisses. He felt like a fool. He was the leader of the Gusu Lan sect, doing such a lascivious act with a near stranger. He was not even certain what he was trying to accomplish. But the feeling of butterflies in his stomach grew to a warm and pleasant ache the moment Gaoran’s lips touched his, and continued building every second they were entangled together. Having seen this man in so much need and pain that was similar to his own, how could he not reach out?</p><p>They continued kissing for what felt like at once hours and yet barely a few moments, until at last it seemed that Gaoran’s pain had faded away. The tempo of their interaction grew softer, sleep threatening to claim them both. Though still softly kissing him now and then, stroking his cheek and hair, Gaoran’s eyes were closed and the tension was slowly easing from his body.</p><p>“Stay like this tonight,” he requested in a soft murmur.</p><p>Still quite nervous and embarrassed but feeling the desire to sleep even more than the other man, Xichen could manage no other response. “…mm.”</p><p>…</p><p>Xichen rose, as usual, with the sun at just after five the following morning. After experiencing a few moments of an unfamiliar but incredibly comfortable sensation of having a warm body wrapped in one’s arms, self-consciousness froze his body as he stared at Gaoran’s sleeping face just inches from his own. His sense of propriety told him to get up immediately. Yet a soft ache in his chest stopped him. </p><p>In the gently breaking sunlight peeking through the slats of the window, Gaoran’s face, as usual, was troubled even in sleep. Xichen was filled with nervousness at being so close, and shame as he remembered what they had done last night. Within these discomforts, however, was an even deeper desire to do more. He found it was impossible to be bored simply gazing at this person’s face, sharing his warmth. Gaoran’s masculine and somewhat earthy scent enveloped him, and made him want to hold him closer.</p><p>But that would not do after all, he thought. Even if they had now gained a blissful closeness, there were still many things that needed to be settled, and Gaoran’s own feelings to be considered. Though it was surprisingly painful do to so, Xichen reluctantly extricated himself and got up to prepare for the day alone. </p><p>Only a few minutes after he had done so, he glanced at Gaoran in the bed to find his eyes open and staring at the wall in front of him. The troubled look in his face tugged at Xichen’s heart, and he stopped what he was doing to sit down on the bed beside him. </p><p>“How is your pain this morning?”</p><p>Gaoran’s brows tightened. In pain? No…it looked like…irritation. “It’s fine,” he murmured simply, with a tone that suggested he did not wish to elaborate.</p><p>The warmth in Xichen’s chest from the previous night dissipated at this cold reaction. Deep down, he began to feel a sliver of dread. But what happened last night had been very important to him, and he decided he couldn’t leave his feelings unresolved. He sought reassurance that what he had done was not wrong or unwanted, and was bolstered by a slim hope that perhaps there might be more.</p><p>“So…it helped?” he asked, his cheeks feeling hot even though he had been too embarrassed to say what they had actually done.</p><p>Gaoran didn’t answer at first. Xichen’s dread grew slowly larger, but he still yearned for reassurance from him, and foolishly waited for an answer. Gaoran’s eyes drew closed. He let out a breath of resignation.</p><p>“I was wrong to do that.”</p><p>It took a moment for Xichen to understand these words. He definitely heard the word “wrong,” and at least Gaoran was not accusing Xichen himself of wrongdoing, but why would Gaoran say this? He couldn’t understand at first which part could be considered “wrong.” </p><p>Slowly, a cold and sad feeling rose up in his chest along with a particular thought. He still didn’t know exactly what kind of relationship Gaoran had had with the one he had lost, Jiaofei. But clearly it was one that crossed the bounds of mere companionship. And though inexperienced in love, one thing that was not difficult for Xichen to understand was betrayal. For Gaoran, his loss was likely still recent. It was possible, even seeking comfort from anyone else would be considered a betrayal of the one he had lost.</p><p>As soon as he thought this, Xichen couldn’t respond. He wanted to. He wanted to change what was happening. But words remained trapped, stuck inside this tight and painful feeling in his chest.</p><p>Gaoran ran the knuckle of his thumb between his brows as if fighting off a headache. Eventually he added, “I am grateful. But your kindness is undeserved. And the price of such comfort…is too costly for me.”</p><p>These words broke only slowly over Xichen, and were more difficult for him to grasp than the first. But one thing he understood now: whatever he had to provide was not what Gaoran wanted. </p><p>At length, Gaoran glanced up at him, no doubt curious at his lack of response. Whatever he saw in Xichen’s expression, it caused him to sit up and lean closer as if comforting him. “I don’t mean the act itself was wrong,” he reassured him softly. “Your purity it still intact, Zewu-jun.”</p><p>Such things had been very distant in Xichen’s mind since almost the first moment they touched. Truly, Xichen was so gracious and open-hearted by nature that such abstract and often exclusionary concepts as “purity” rarely held any value to him. Certainly, this was not what was blocking up his chest, making it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. </p><p>“Xichen…” Gaoran murmured, again inadvertently strumming Xichen’s heart by suddenly using his courtesy name instead of a title. “I should not have taken advantage of your kindness. But you have done nothing wrong. It’s best for you to just forget it ever happened.”</p><p>At this, finally, Xichen could not bear for this interaction to be drawn out any further. His shame would only be compounded if Gaoran were to know how he was feeling, and so he forced down those feelings and managed a polite smile. </p><p>“Master Feng is too considerate,” he managed in a slightly mechanical manner, and quickly rose from the bed to finish his morning preparations as efficiently as possible so that he could leave this horrible moment behind. </p><p>Gaoran watched him as he did so and seemed to want to add something to what he had said, but in the end was unable to. Therefore, with a brief remark about checking on the status of the others, Xichen left the room before the redness of his eyes could be observed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Sworn Brother</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Four Great Clans arrive in Qinghe to discuss the new threat facing the cultivation world. One of them discovers Xichen's feelings, and Xichen has a difficult decision to make.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gaoran silently prepared for travel that morning. As he fitted his belt, he realized he was somewhat more absent-minded than usual. It took him several tries to fit it properly. He gave a self-deprecating sigh, not sparing any thought on the exact reason he was feeling not entirely himself this morning. But gentle and sad brown eyes emerged in his mind without bidding anyway. </p><p>As he walked out of the room to meet with the others, he almost ran straight into Sizhui. The young disciple was still straightening his diadem and looking somewhat rushed. He recoiled when he spotted Gaoran, and his expression soured.</p><p>He looked as if he wanted to say something, but then his gaze dipped down to Gaoran’s leg. In the end, he only swept past him as if he were not there. Gaoran had almost forgotten how troublesome it was to be young, always getting worked up over one thing or another. Still, it wasn’t any of his business if Sizhui wanted to hate him.</p><p>When he arrived in the inn’s dining area below, surprisingly he was only second to last to do so. Before Sizhui, both Lan brothers were standing and chatting, not discussing anything particularly important but looking like a pair of heavenly immortals carved from jade. Gaoran pointedly avoided looking at Lan Xichen’s face, as he looked possibly most intimidating and untouchable when standing beside his brother. </p><p>Lan Wangji nodded to him in greeting. “Master Feng.”</p><p>Gaoran expected Lan Xichen to turn and greet him as well, feeling a slight strain in his chest at the thought of meeting his gaze. But to his surprise, Xichen didn’t move. He was still facing half away from him and toward Hanguang-jun, his eyes vaguely cast toward the floor. Gaoran wondered if he were finally angry. Of course it didn’t feel good to be on the receiving end of such a patient man’s anger, but he felt it was about time. </p><p>“Hanguang-jun…is Wei-qianbei…?” Sizhui wheedled delicately.</p><p>There was barely any change in Lan Wangji’s expression, but he cast his eyes up toward the room where he had left his cultivation partner. There were several seconds of silence. Then finally, “I’ll be right back.”</p><p>It took another few minutes of waiting, amid a very awkward atmosphere in which Lan Xichen and Lan Sizhui attempted conversation but neither seemed quite up for it. Eventually, thankfully, the couple emerged, a grumpy Wei Wuxian being somewhat forcefully herded down the stairs by his doting husband. </p><p>“Well then. Let’s set off,” said Lan Xichen, with a smile that looked a little strained.</p><p>This time, whether in deference to the hungover Wei Wuxian or the ailing Gaoran, they rode in a carriage. Even though it drained his energy and thus worsened his condition, Gaoran had to admit he preferred riding the sword to the constant bumping and juddering of the carriage. </p><p>On the other hand, it was rare for him to be able to travel so far so effortlessly, and he spent most of his time looking curiously out the carriage window as the others chatted. </p><p>His thoughts were somewhat winding as he observed the gradually changing landscape. As the sun rose higher, spots of sunlight dappled them as they passed through the high tree branches. Most of Qinghe was mountainous and well forested, but the air smelled warmer and earthier than Gusu. Gaoran peered through the gaps in the trees, imagining the kinds of creatures who made this place home.</p><p>These thoughts naturally led him to wondering where Wenting’s monsters might be lurking. </p><p>At one point, when the conversation had died down, he felt eyes on him. He naturally tensed, until a not particularly quiet whisper alerted him to the nature of the stare.</p><p>“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian whispered. “Who is that?”</p><p>“…he introduced himself last night. Master Feng Jun, Gaoran,” Lan Wangji said, making even less effort to whisper.</p><p>Gaoran resisted the urge to scowl. He didn’t care if they didn’t know who he was, but he hated being talked about. </p><p>“Oh. But why is he here?” </p><p>Lan Xichen cleared his throat, obviously sensing the need for his intervention. “Master Wei. Perhaps this is a good opportunity to discuss the threat we are facing, and why Huaisang has called us.”</p><p>Xichen patiently explained the threat, and how Gaoran had entered the situation. At the end, Wei Wuxian’s eyes were sparkling with interest. His eyes fell on Gaoran’s hip. </p><p>“Jiangshi…” he murmured interestedly, tapping his finger on his lips in thought. But he said no more about it at that time.</p><p>At one point the carriage stopped to water the horses. All the Lan sect members got out to guard the carriage and stretch their legs, while Wei Wuxian and Gaoran remained inside. Gaoran noticed that Wei Wuxian had moved directly across from him and was staring at him with a slight smile. He was reluctantly forced to acknowledge him with a questioning glare. </p><p>“Ah! Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” said the Yiling Patriarch, smiling disarmingly. “The talk about jiangshi made me curious about your sword. Could I get a closer look?”</p><p>Gaoran could feel his own already forbidding face growing even more so. He was suddenly made aware of how easily he had handed Xiemo over to Lan Xichen. The thought of doing so now was uncomfortably intrusive. </p><p>“…do you often ask to handle other men’s swords on first meetings?” Gaoran grumbled irritably.</p><p>At first Wei Wuxian blinked innocently in surprise. Then he stifled a laugh, although there was a hint of anger behind it. “If that was a joke, it was pretty good,” he complimented.</p><p>“It wasn’t.”</p><p>But despite Gaoran’s attitude, Wei Wuxian did not seem deterred. He even scooted a little closer and asked, “So tell me more about this method then. Lan-gege said you wrap yin qi around your body?”</p><p>Gaoran looked outside, hoping the others would hurry back as he was in no mood to have this conversation now, especially if he were only going to have to repeat himself once they arrived in Qinghe. </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Hmm.” Wei Wuxian glanced down at his own hand, concentrating for a moment. Gaoran could see he had skill for it, but it had taken Gaoran years to stabilize the technique. More importantly, he simply couldn’t imagine a frivolous person like this being able to stifle his emotions. “Ah, it’s too hard. You must be really great, Master Feng,” the Yiling Patriarch concluded with a grin.</p><p>“…not at all,” Gaoran reluctantly replied politely before looking out the window again to indicate the conversation was over.</p><p>Things were silent for a little while, but he still felt Wei Wuxian’s gaze on him. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he gave him another irritable glare.</p><p>Wei Wuxian gave a somewhat complex smile as he met his gaze, but then he glanced down at his leg again. “That curse is so bad I can feel it from here.”</p><p>Gaoran tensed uncomfortably. He had heard many stories about the Yiling Patriarch’s abilities, though most he considered mere fiction, but did he really have such delicate perception? </p><p>“Want me to do something about it?”</p><p>Gaoran’s eyes widened. This flippant man whom he had just met, and seemed to have learned of his curse without even a clear view of it, was offering to help him. Did he even have the ability? Gaoran wasn’t aware of a technique more effective than the one Lan Xichen had been using. </p><p>“You have skills Zewu-jun doesn’t?” he voiced his doubt.</p><p>“Mm…more a lax attitude toward orthodoxy,” said Wei Wuxian with an impish smile. “I’m not talking about healing it, I can’t do anything like that. I mean I could take it for you.”</p><p>Gaoran was even more stunned. So much so that he didn’t believe this offer at all. His eyes gradually narrowed. “Why?”</p><p>“Hm? Oh. Well just because I seem to be better at expelling curse energy than you. But that’s natural. Curse energy is much stronger on people who know they’ve done something to deserve it. I have no reason to feel guilty after all.”</p><p>Ire rose like vomit into Gaoran’s throat. “I don’t feel guilty,” he snarled.</p><p>A smirk tugged at Wei Wuxian’s innocent expression. “Oh? My mistake. You don’t want me to take it then?”</p><p>Gaoran closed his eyes irritably and sighed. “It’s a deathly curse. I wouldn’t give it to you even if you wanted it.”</p><p>“Hm…you seem to dislike me though.”</p><p>“…I dislike gnats, but I don’t kill them either.”</p><p>“Ha! Well said.”</p><p>Fortunately the others soon returned and their journey resumed, but all were conscious of the way Wei Wuxian seemed to frequently grin over at Feng Gaoran with amusement, while the other man spent the remainder of the journey pretending to be asleep.</p><p>Upon reaching the Unclean Realm, they were escorted grandly by rows of saber-wielding cultivators to the great hall, where the Chief Cultivator awaited them. The young Chief at first appeared to be only a well-dressed gentleman with a fan covering most of his face. He then gestured with it for his saber cultivators to leave them. As soon as they were gone, his expression twisted and became quite pitiful.</p><p>“Er-ge…” he whimpered. </p><p>Xichen let out a soft sigh and smiled. “Huaisang, we’ve arrived. Are the other clan leaders not here yet?”</p><p>Getting down from his seat and coming straight up to Lan Xichen to cling to him, the Chief Cultivator whined, “Jiang-xiong is here but he already yelled at me and now I don’t know where he is…Er-ge…uwu…what should I do?”</p><p>“All right, we’ll sort it out. Come, sit down and let’s talk for a while.”</p><p>After guiding the Chief Cultivator to take a seat, Xichen turned to Lan Wangji and whispered, “Perhaps it’s best to let me talk to Huaisang alone first. Wangji, Sizhui, would you see to Master Wei and Master Feng for a while?”</p><p>Hanguang-jun and Sizhui each took a step back and bowed obediently. “Xiong-zhang,” Wangji murmured, which Sizhui echoed with a, “Zewu-jun.” </p><p>To Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji said, “Let’s go walk outside. Master Feng?”</p><p>Gaoran let out a breath of mild irritation. He only wanted to explain the situation properly to the Chief Cultivator and was not interested in delays or mollycoddling. He also was not looking forward to spending time with either Wei Wuxian or Lan Sizhui. But it seemed he had no choice. He at least followed them outside so as not to disturb Zewu-jun or the Chief Cultivator. </p><p>Once there, though, he stopped at the steps of the great hall and said, “I’ll just wait here.”</p><p>Lan Wangji, who had almost certainly been told about Gaoran’s health, glanced down at his leg before nodding in acceptance. Sizhui looked at him with a touch more suspicion, but voiced no objection if he had one. They and Wei Wuxian walked off with Wei Wuxian talking merrily and frequently touching Lan Wangji with affection in a way that stirred jealousy in a dark place in Gaoran’s heart. He closed his eyes and sat down on the steps, resting his back against a pillar.</p><p>The curse had been making him feel colder than usual, and the sun in the Unclean Realm was strong, so he let the tiredness of the journey drain beneath the warm rays. He expected to be woken a few minutes to an hour later, when the other clan leaders arrived. But the first thing he heard that stirred him from his relaxing was a scream. </p><p>His eyes flew open. He stood to look in the direction of the sound, one hand resting on Xiemo’s hilt. Myrmidons of the Nie clan were rushing toward the massive gates of the Unclean Realm. The scream had come from outside the gate. There seemed to be some panic about whether or not to open the gates, and Gaoran’s chest felt tight as he was certain he knew why.</p><p>He wasted no more time. He drew Xiemo and mounted, flying straight over the gates. Below, myrmidons of the Jin clan were trying to fight but were quickly being drained of qi as they struggled to defend their clan leader, while they desperately retreated from the woods. Chasing them and slowly emerging from the shadows of the forest, jiangshi.</p><p>These were clearly human jiangshi, however. Two jerking and twitching, half-rotted, human corpses. Although there were only two, they had clearly absorbed enough qi already from the Jin myrmidons that they were moving disturbingly quickly, and would not fall no matter how many strikes they took from conventional spiritual weapons. There was not a moment to lose.</p><p>Gaoran took a breath in and concentrated. He gradually released his control of Xiemo so that he began free-falling down the remaining distance. He focused yin energy all around his body, pushing down his emotions at the same time. By the time he was a few feet from the ground, his transformation was complete. He landed with a heavy impact between some retreating Jin and the jiangshi, sending one of them flying with a heavy sword strike.</p><p>In many ways, fighting human opponents was easier than fighting a dog. But these jiangshi were drunk with qi, even unafraid of the sunlight, darting around him so that he had to remain constantly vigilant on both sides. </p><p>He was forced to use his sword one-handed so that he could defend from both at once. One of them took two deep cuts from Xiemo before Gaoran was able to disable it enough to slam his sword hilt into the creature’s brain. It crumpled to the ground, returned to its proper state as a dead thing.</p><p>The second howled hoarsely at the sight and backed away, slinking off into the woods. But Gaoran wasn’t about to let it wander off in this state and attack someone else. He chased after it and landed a strike across its back. </p><p>Both in rage and self-defense, the creature made a horrific noise and faced him with its half-rotten countenance. It scrambled within his guard and tried to scratch at his skin, to place more curses there. He successfully dodged until managing to grasp one of its wrists. He yanked the creature toward himself, impaling it from neck to brain with Xiemo.</p><p>After a small, regretful gurgle, it too fell as soon as he withdrew his sword. Exhausted, he wavered for a moment as he felt numb below his knees. He briefly placed Xiemo’s tip into the ground to steady himself, wondering how he was going to get back inside without embarrassing himself once more by asking for help.</p><p>He did not realize that his flight from the steps of the great hall had attracted some attention. In fact, not only the Jin clan members that he had just rescued, but also Clan Leader Jiang and Hanguang-jun had flown to the top of the gates after him and observed the whole thing. The two exchanged a glance.</p><p>“Wh-…who are you?” came the voice of a young man.</p><p>Gaoran was too tired to turn and acknowledge the speaker, so he merely glanced that way. The speaker had apparently been the one all these now badly injured and qi-drained Jin myrmidons had been protecting. A thin and dazzling youth, though currently pale with fear, dressed in exquisite sparks-amidst-snow. Apparently, the young Jin clan leader, Jin Rulan.</p><p>Gaoran merely nodded toward the gate. “Go inside first.”</p><p>At that moment, Jiang Wanyin’s harsh voice bellowed from the top of the gate, “What are you hesitating for? Open the gate!”</p><p>As the Nie myrmidons all suddenly had flashbacks of the time when they had been at the mercy of Nie Mingjue’s temper, they hurriedly obeyed and opened the gates. The Jin myrmidons supported each other but still made sure Jin Ling was the first inside and guarded the area behind fretfully.</p><p>Gaoran’s vision began to dim. He stubbornly remained on his feet as he could hardly bear the embarrassment of feinting once again, and in front of so many people. A cold sweat began to break out over his forehead from the effort. </p><p>Just as he felt his strength failing, there was a rustle of fabric beside him. A strong hand grasped his arm, simultaneously holding him up and surreptitiously feeding him spiritual energy. </p><p>“Master Feng,” said Hanguang-jun quietly. “Let’s go inside.”</p><p>As the pain and exhaustion faded with the infusion of Lan Wangji’s powerful spiritual energy, Gaoran managed a nod. “Hanguang-jun…thank you.”</p><p>“Mm.”</p><p>With the injured Jin myrmidons taken to be treated in a quiet building nearby, finally all the clan leaders gathered in the great hall of the Unclean Realm. Upon hearing what had just happened, Nie Huaisang let out a miserable wail. </p><p>“Even this close to the Unclean Realm?! Er-ge! What do we do?!” he cried.</p><p>“Well crying about it certainly won’t help!” Jiang Cheng snapped.</p><p>Lan Xichen preemptively sighed, knowing that would only make Nie Huaisang cry more. Which, indeed, it did. But at least the Chief Cultivator stared miserably down at the table in front of him and cried silently now, afraid of upsetting Clan Leader Jiang further. </p><p>“Jin Ling. How long had they been chasing you? Did you do anything to attract them?” Jiang Cheng demanded.</p><p>“I don’t know!” The young clan leader struggled to think for a moment. “We were just resting for a while in the town…then as soon as we got back on the road, somebody screamed…” Jin Ling grew pale again and seemed to lose the will to speak.</p><p>Wei Wuxian clicked his tongue in irritation and slapped his former brother hard on the arm. “Do you have any delicacy at all?”</p><p>“It would seem based on this and the reports Huaisang already sent that these creatures are most concentrated in southern Qinghe, and their numbers seem to be increasing,” Xichen said. “We have learned from Master Feng some methods for protection, the problem is implementing them on any vast scale. It is impractical to use spirit-catching nets over every small down in the region.”</p><p>“I don’t understand why there isn’t some simple way to kill them. That’s what we should be doing,” Jiang Cheng insisted.</p><p>His comment caused many eyes to drift in Gaoran’s direction. Most here already knew at least that he was the only one who knew how to fight them. He closed his eyes tiredly, shaking his head.</p><p>“I’ve already put too many people in danger by telling you what I have,” he said.</p><p>“What is that supposed to mean?” Jiang Cheng snapped. “You’re trying to protect your sect secrets so you keep all of us under your thumb, is that it? Preposterous. What is this charlatan doing here, Lan Xichen? He’s trying to tell the Four Great Clans that we’re helpless children before him!”</p><p>Knowing this abuse was just senseless anger, Gaoran merely cast his gaze aside and did not react. </p><p>For his own part, Xichen seemed not to know how to respond to this criticism, his eyes lowered with a troubled expression. Sizhui, sitting just behind him, looked somewhat mollified, however.</p><p>Wei Wuxian brushed his finger across the tip of his nose with a look of poorly concealed desire for mischief. “But there is someone controlling these things, isn’t there? So it would be faster to go straight to the source anyway.”</p><p>“No,” Gaoran insisted sharply. Though aware of the incredulous gazes that passed his way, he would not yield in the glare he cast toward Wei Wuxian. “Above all else, no one else must face her. I have to do it.”</p><p>Jiang Cheng scoffed loudly. “No respect intended, where none is deserved, but who exactly do you think you are? You are standing in a room with the most powerful cultivators in the world. And you presume to order us around, and even make us cower in the face of danger?”</p><p>“Did I say she was too powerful? I don’t match a single one of you in this room. It would be silly to say otherwise,” Gaoran muttered.</p><p>“Ha. A personal grudge then. Enough with this nonsense, we don’t need this sick fellow’s help,” Jiang Cheng casually brushed his existence aside.</p><p>Gaoran’s jaw tightened. “I just know her. I know what she can do, and how ruthless she is. You just saw what two of her creatures can do to the myrmidons of one of the Great Clans. Would you rather risk all the greatest cultivators in the world, or a nameless sick fellow from a mountain temple?”</p><p>Finally, Lan Xichen lifted his head a little. “I think that’s enough, Master Feng,” he said, and though his voice was soft, there was no one in the room who was not aware how harsh these words were when coming from Lan Xichen. He took in a deep breath and let it out before speaking again. “There is a limit to indulgence in personal vendettas. The fact is, you have admitted that you cannot defeat her on your own, and so it seems the longer we argue about how to do so without your willingness to provide answers, the more time we waste. So what is your solution?”</p><p>Deep in his chest, Gaoran felt a twinge. He wasn’t sure why at first, but eventually he realized that part of him had started to rely upon the gentleness of this very controlled man. Apparently, what he had done last night had damaged the grace of even the great Zewu-jun. </p><p>He had been thinking for a long time about this, and so he had an answer ready. “I don’t know how,” he admitted softly. “But I need to trap her somewhere. And I’ll need an infusion of spiritual energy to keep my heart beating long enough to at least weaken her. Unless she’s utterly defenseless, she’ll be able to curse anyone who gets close. If you can help me in these things, we can defeat her.”</p><p>…</p><p>In the absence of any other plan or knowledge about this mysterious villain, eventually the other clan leaders agreed to help. Some discussion proceeded until it became obvious that Gaoran was only barely holding his head up. Without being asked, Hanguang-jun rose and volunteered to play guqin for him to help suppress the curse. Though both Lan Xichen and Gaoran himself were surprised by this, they were also both grateful for the younger Lan’s intervention.</p><p>After the others had all left, Lan Xichen stayed behind alongside Nie Huaisang, who watched him with concern. </p><p>“Er-ge…you’re pale. Is something wrong?” Huaisang asked worriedly. When Xichen’s expression intensified slightly and he seemed unable to answer, he pressed softly, “That…young man just now. Why is it…you couldn’t look at him?”</p><p>Xichen’s eyelashes fluttered, but he made no other response. He didn’t know what to say. He had hardly felt more foolish in his life. He barely knew this man, he kept reminding himself. Last night had not meant anything to him but simple seeking comfort. The longer he hoped for anything else, the more pain would await him.</p><p>Huaisang’s eyes grew moist while watching him, and eventually he cast them down with a hint of despair. It was quite some time before he spoke again. For a time, he picked up his half empty tea cup and watching the dregs drift around the bottom idly. </p><p>“I thought it was A-Yao.”</p><p>Xichen felt a bolt of dread run up his spine. The face of A-Yao in his dreams flashed before his eyes. Those cruel eyes, and that sad smile. The utter despair with which he had kissed him and curled up in his arms. But that was only a dream. He had told no one about it, not even Wangji. Huaisang couldn’t possibly know what was in Xichen’s heart, could he?</p><p>“What do you…” Xichen whispered breathlessly, but his voice stopped as his courage ran out. He couldn’t face it if Huaisang knew. Of all people, he could not bear for Huaisang, who had arguably been more hurt by A-Yao than anyone, know how he felt about him. </p><p>Huaisang’s bottom lip trembled a little. But he bravely tried to hide how much pain he was in. “I’m not blind, Er-ge. Maybe A-Yao himself was a little too biased to notice. But I knew.”</p><p>Xichen’s breath left him in a panicked gasp. His heart was hammering. He didn’t know where to turn. He couldn’t deny it, but nor could he say to Huaisang’s face that he had been in love with the man who killed his brother. Even after he knew that. Even after he died.</p><p>Huaisang’s brows drew together with the sweet innocence that had led Mingjue to spoiling him a little to begin with. “I had given up,” he whispered, but Xichen didn’t understand what he meant. “I know the Lan. I know…there can only ever be one. But if there could be a second, then…rather than your brother who stood beside you, and depended on so many years…how could it be a stranger?”</p><p>Xichen was frozen, he could not speak or even move. A cold feeling like guilt rose up and filled his chest, making him feel sick. Huaisang…no, this was so wrong. That Xichen could be involved in such a sordid relationship with not only one, but two of his sworn brothers…and with Huaisang, who had always been a child in his eyes…it was too horrible. </p><p>“Huaisang, I don’t…I don’t know what you mean,” Xichen insisted with a forced smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You…are my brother. Of course you are. Nothing will ever change that.”</p><p>Those large, tear-stained eyes looked up at him, and Xichen was forced to see a man in place of the little brother he had looked after for so many years. </p><p>“Even if I want it to? Er-ge…is it really impossible…with me?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Bite</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The group has their first encounter with Tie Wenting, and Lan Xichen is injured.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Despite much worry and caution from Gaoran, they eventually decided the next morning to break up into groups and search the near area for Tie Wenting. No less than two people to each group, so that if one was captured, the other would have a chance to report back. </p><p>As they were dividing up the groups, Gaoran felt Lan Xichen’s gaze drift near but not exactly to him. Xichen began to open his mouth.</p><p>“Then I’ll go with Master Feng.”</p><p>Both Xichen and Gaoran blinked up in surprise at the speaker. It wasn’t Xichen, but Lan Sizhui. </p><p>“Sizhui…?” Xichen murmured, politely trying to hide the doubt that tinged his expression. </p><p>Gaoran simply lowered his gaze, wanting to stay out of it. At least Sizhui would be less distracting of a presence than Lan Xichen, he thought. His eyes flicked open at his own thought. Distracting? he wondered to himself. Why would he find Lan Xichen distracting?</p><p>“That…may be dangerous,” Xichen objected quietly, his expression somewhat strained, despite the outward appearance of calm. “If Master Feng experiences an attack while you are alone together…”</p><p>“Hanguang-jun has said that Master Feng’s condition has stabilized greatly, and another attack is not likely for some time,” Sizhui replied, equally calm. He managed a hesitant smile. “In the worst case, I am perfectly capable of escaping while carrying dead weight.”</p><p>Gaoran’s eyebrow twitched. Should he laugh? The hostility was so open yet thinly veiled in politeness that it was hard not to be amused. It was strange, but he grew more and more fond of this kid the more he seemed to openly hate him.</p><p>“I…still think it is best to be cautious,” Xichen said, though his voice was growing soft and hesitant, as if the slightest push would silence him all together. “I should be the one to-“</p><p>“I don’t think so.”</p><p>All eyes turned this time to the Chief Cultivator, who had spoken, though currently most of his face was concealed by his fan. Though he was looking down, Gaoran thought he saw traces of red around his eyes, as if he had continued crying even after the others had left last night. </p><p>“In my opinion, Zewu-jun shouldn’t go at all,” Nie Huaisang said with a hint of a pouting frown. “You’re too important to lose. Besides, without you the numbers become even,” he mumbled, as if that mattered to anyone.</p><p>Xichen looked quizzically at him for a moment, but then Gaoran was shocked as, seconds later, the sect leader quickly looked away from Nie Huaisang with a look of badly concealed anguish. What could have happened between those two?</p><p>“Huaisang…it’s not good to prioritize any one person’s life…” Xichen mumbled, barely able to muster any volume at all this time.</p><p>Gaoran sighed. “Then I choose Sizhui.”</p><p>Most of the others, even Sizhui, looked at him with shock at this. Lan Xichen couldn’t bring himself to look at him, but he did manage a soft, slightly pained question. “Why do you say that, Gaoran?”</p><p>“You…attract too much attention.”</p><p>Xichen blinked up at him in surprise, obviously not having expected this answer. He also didn’t seem to know quite what to do with it. After a moment’s pause, he murmured, “Well…of course I would go in disguise…”</p><p>Gaoran looked him up and down once and then said in a deadpan tone, “Even if you cover yourself with mud, you, Lan Xichen, are immensely tall, thin and muscular. Your hair is long and lustrous, and your eyes are clearly those of a beautiful cultivator of the highest quality. Your every movement is a masterclass in elegance. That’s assuming our enemy doesn’t have a keen eye for spiritual energy, which unfortunately she does. It’s surprisingly easy to hide ugliness, but beauty like yours can’t be concealed even with effort.”</p><p>To the utter bewilderment of Gaoran, but to the surprise of exactly no one else, the normally ivory-colored face of the Lan sect leader gradually turned several different shades of red. He blinked reflexively, looking panicked about how to conceal his embarrassment, as he was clearly not used to such blatant compliments. </p><p>Gaoran was confused by his reaction. He assumed Lan Xichen was perfectly aware of all these things about himself.</p><p>Wei Wuxian was covering his own mouth in a desperate attempt to hold back his own laughter, but the shaking of his shoulders completely gave him away. He leaned his other hand on Sizhui and whispered – not very quietly – “Pfft. I think he just called you ugly.”</p><p>Jiang Cheng sighed loudly. “Enough! Zewu-jun, if you’re going, then go with those two. Just stay out of sight if you can’t hide your ‘beauty’,” he added with a sneer, which only deepened Lan Xichen’s embarrassment. </p><p>And so it was that, while disguised in commoner’s robes, Gaoran went with Lan Sizhui and Lan Xichen into the nearest town to the east of the Unclean Realm. It was apparently normally a bustling market town, but a clear pall hung over it now. What few shoppers there were passed by mostly quickly and without making eye contact. Some shops were boarded up. </p><p>“How should we search?” asked Sizhui, mostly to Lan Xichen.</p><p>Xichen turned to Gaoran. “Master Feng?”</p><p>At that moment, Gaoran’s gaze was carefully traveling up and down the edges of the main thoroughfare, looking for signs of anything Wenting might have touched. If she made contact for long enough, it was possible she would leave traces of her spiritual energy that would be visible to him. But unsurprisingly, if she had passed through here at all, she had done so carefully.</p><p>He sighed. “Without a starting point, we might as well search outward from here. Concentric circles.”</p><p>After passing through the whole town just in case, they began to roam through the outskirts, eventually finding themselves in relatively open fields, alternating with patches of wilderness. The further they went, the thicker the forest grew, until they were traveling mostly in deep, cool shade. </p><p>“She would need enough space and privacy to produce her monsters and send them out unseen,” Gaoran muttered as they scanned the horizon in all directions as they went. “My guess would be a cave. She might also be hiding her presence with a talisman.”</p><p>“Then how are we supposed to find her?” Sizhui asked with a slight edge in his tone.</p><p>“I’ll know it if I see it.”</p><p>Sizhui frowned sharply at him. “What about the others out searching for her right now? How will they know it if they stumble across her?”</p><p>“That’s why I said I should go alone,” Gaoran told him with a wry expression. </p><p>The tension that grew over Sizhui’s face said he could not believe the better part of the cultivation world had been caught up in Gaoran’s problems. It made Gaoran’s lip twitch in the process of nearly forming a smile.</p><p>At that moment, a flash of something caught the corner of his eye. He sucked in a breath. “Look out!” he cried, grabbing Lan Xichen’s hand and pulling him a few inches backward.</p><p>The familiar glare of a glimmering silver sword passed inches in front of Lan Xichen’s face. When it swung back toward him, he already had Shuoyue drawn and successfully parried it away. The sword flew back to its master.</p><p>Her strong and graceful hand reached up and caught the hilt, flipping it easily and lowering it down to her side. There she was. Dressed in cold, elegant silver, just as he remembered. Tie Wenting. Every atom in Gaoran’s body was alive with rage, regret and sickness.  </p><p>From a distance of more than fifty feet, she calmly watched them for some time. Her gaze on Gaoran, she finally said, “You came of your own accord. Gaoran.”</p><p>The sight of Jiaofei-ge’s blood leaving his body filled Gaoran’s eyes. He had been barely wide enough for a sword to pass through him. So fragile that Gaoran feared he would hurt him just by catching him as he fell. And so small and cold in his arms.</p><p>Gaoran knew the plan. He had been there when they made it. He had half suggested it. The thing to do now was to escape as fast as possible and gather the others, with spirit-trapping nets and every other under-handed trick they could find. But there she was. Jiaofei’s killer. How could she be allowed to keep existing?</p><p>Unexpectedly, Lan Xichen took a step out in front of Gaoran, partly shielding him with his body. He even clasped his hands and bowed, though he still held Shuoyue between them. “Young Miss.” Tie Wenting raised an eyebrow at that. “Would you accompany us back to the Unclean Realm?”</p><p>Gaoran flashed a glare at him. What was he thinking? Was he trying to get the Nie clan destroyed?</p><p>Wenting smirked slightly, though there was pity in her eyes. She sheathed her sword, something that actually made Gaoran’s pulse rise. His eyes darted around to the undergrowth behind her, looking for signs of movement. </p><p>“This one at least seems a little stronger,” Wenting muttered, looking at Xichen but clearly still addressing Gaogan. “But how many times do you need to learn the same lesson, Gaoran?”</p><p>Gaoran drew Xiemo and gathered yin energy over his body without waiting for her to make her move. “Go,” he said in a dull voice.</p><p>Wenting’s brows twitched. She snapped her fingers. With horrific moans, one after another, nearly a dozen jiangshi hoved out from behind her and surrounded them. </p><p>Xichen was still looking at Gaoran in shock. “‘Go’?” he repeated with incredulity that bordered on anger.</p><p>If he had been more conscious than his zhenqi would allow, he would have been able to sense that there was an argument coming. Instead he merely moved toward Wenting, planning to cut his way toward her through the jiangshi. But then a hand fell over his chest, stopping him. </p><p>He glanced at Xichen beside him. </p><p>The normally elegant and restrained gentleman, still very much a beauty even in commoner clothes, just as Gaoran had predicted, managed to stir a flicker of emotion even in Gaoran’s qi-suppressed heart with the anguish on his face. </p><p>“You’re running with us, or I’m fighting here with you. Choose.”</p><p>Gaoran did not even realize at first as the stirring of his heart cancelled out his qi suppression. As he held Xichen’s gaze, the flicker he felt turned into a glow. Why was this man so…</p><p>He lowered his head in defeat, the last of his zhenqi fading. “Then we run. I take the rear.”</p><p>Xichen nodded tightly. “Sizhui, stay between me and Gaoran.”</p><p>The two Lan cultivators, who came prepared knowing what they might find, both drew fire talismans and threw them at the nearest jiangshi, at least distracting them momentarily enough to make a gap. Gaoran gathered enough zhenqi over his fist to maintain control of Xiemo, but otherwise focused on running behind the other two and diverting any jiangshi from following them.</p><p>Of course, he should have known that Wenting would not reveal herself unless she was certain of victory. No matter how far they ran, more jiangshi kept coming out of the woods. They could not ride the sword in woods these dense either.</p><p>“Zewu-jun…I’m out of talismans…” Sizhui panted.</p><p>“Me too,” Xichen replied grimly. “Just don’t let them touch you.”</p><p>They continued running until their lungs and legs were aching, but still there was no end to them. Gaoran’s zhenqi was beginning to weaken from over-use. </p><p>“Xichen!” he cried when he could maintain it no longer. “We need cover!”</p><p>Xichen quickly looked around them and spotted a waterfall in the distance. “Sizhui, come he- Sizhui!”</p><p>Before Gaoran could reach them, Xichen had already put his arm out in front of a jiangshi that was reaching for Sizhui. The creature bit down on his forearm with its rotting jaws. A soft cry of pain, and then Xichen crumpled.</p><p>“Zewu-jun!” Sizhui cried. </p><p>Gaoran sliced off the top half of the jiangshi’s head, severing the offending jaw muscles. He grasped Xichen under one arm and nodded for Sizhui to do the same. “Carry him with me. Over there,” he said, nodding toward the place he had seen Xichen looking.</p><p>Sizhui quickly obeyed and was far more use in carrying Xichen than Gaoran was. They used their swords to speed them along until they reached the waterfall. On the off chance there might be a cave inside it, Gaoran told him to go through the water. They crashed straight through. The roar of water and cold was unpleasant, but momentarily forced the fear out of their minds.</p><p>Though shallow, there was a depression large enough to fit the three of them. Despite his injury, Lan Xichen managed to draw a spell in the air and create a powerful barrier that would at least conceal their spiritual energy. Then he sank back to the ground with an expression of extreme pain, holding his shaking arm.</p><p>Gaoran did not hesitate to take up his arm and suck down on the injury in an attempt to remove contamination from the jiangshi. Xichen let out an audible groan of pain, though it was obvious he was already holding himself back. Gaoran sucked out a mouthful of blood, turned and spat. </p><p>“Help him restore his qi,” he muttered to Sizhui, and then sucked down on Xichen’s arm once more.</p><p>“Uh…oh,” Sizhui muttered, blushing because he realized he should have thought of that. He tapped into his spiritual energy and sent it to Lan Xichen’s forehead, attempting to simultaneously ease his pain and help restore the qi that the jiangshi had stolen.</p><p>Gaoran spat out another mouthful of blood, then examined the injury closely. There was no immediate sign of curse or infection, which was the biggest worry. Relieved, he got to his feet. He unwrapped one of his arm bands and held it into the water. </p><p>He brought it back and used it to wipe the area around the wound. He was frankly quite moved by how little Xichen reacted to this treatment, which would have been painful even if it were an ordinary bite, not to mention when his qi had been forcefully drained from it. Satisfied that it was as clean as he could make it, he unwrapped his other arm band – which was a little drier – and wrapped it tightly around the wound. </p><p>Xichen finally let out a soft breath of relief, but he was clearly still in a lot of pain. Sizhui too let out a breath of relief that he seemed somewhat improved. But the boy’s eyes soon turned up to Gaoran with worry.</p><p>“Will he…”</p><p>Gaoran nodded. “It looks like she wasn’t able to curse him. He should be fine as long as we can get some proper medical care.”</p><p>Sizhui stared blankly at the cave floor for a few moments. “How will we get out of here?”</p><p>Gaoran let out a heavy sigh, feeling exhausted just thinking about it. “Just give me an hour or so. Once we find a break in the trees, we’ll fly by the sword.”</p><p>Sizhui slowly lowered his eyes again, still seeming uncertain. Or perhaps there was something on his mind, because he looked like he wanted to speak but hesitated for some time. Finally he said quietly, “Thank you…Master Feng.”</p><p>Another little flicker, though much smaller than the one he had felt from Lan Xichen just now, touched Gaoran’s heart. He felt his own expression softening as he found a comfortable seated position facing the waterfall. </p><p>“It was Lan Xichen who saved you,” he said casually.</p><p>“I mean…for Zewu-jun.”</p><p>Gaoran’s gaze passed down to the fitful Lan Xichen, who might not even be conscious. He glanced up at Lan Sizhui and attempted to glean the source of this enmity, a certain suspicion about the young disciple building in his mind. </p><p>“I didn’t know he was yours,” Gaoran said, gently testing him with a purposefully provocative statement. “But you’re welcome.”</p><p>Though he half expected a blush, Lan Sizhui instead looked back at him with horror and outrage. “Don’t-!” he began, before glancing down at Lan Xichen and holding himself back. He turned his gaze away in a dignified huff. “I don’t appreciate that kind of humor, Master Feng.”</p><p>“‘Gaoran’,” he corrected softly. </p><p>Sizhui looked up at him in surprise, for once looking like the innocent young man he was. </p><p>Gaoran turned and spat the remains of blood out of his mouth. “I’m no young master,” he said. “You’re a person much more worthy of respect than me, Lan Sizhui. You can just call me ‘Gaoran.’”</p><p>Sizhui took this in for a moment. Just then, he looked positively cute to Gaoran’s eyes, and his mouth twitched again unconsciously at the sight. “Then…Gaoran-ge?”</p><p>“…let’s not go crazy.”</p><p>…</p><p>Fortunately, the jiangshi did not seem able to sense their presence from behind the barrier. An hour later, Gaoran rose and stretched. He flexed his hand and tested his yin energy, feeling it somehow even stronger than before. He frowned at this, as he had never known his zhenqi to increased in strength after using it. </p><p>He met Sizhui’s gaze as the latter was lifting the much heavier Lan Xichen onto his back. </p><p>“Keep close and stay behind me. As soon as we go out, let’s head for high ground. Worst comes to worst, we can climb the trees and cut our way through.”</p><p>Sizhui nodded with a determined expression. </p><p>They flew out through the waterfall, turning at once up toward the high ground, and sought the first gap in the trees that would lead their way home. </p><p>…</p><p>Late that night, Lan Xichen gasped awake. His heart was pounding and his head ached, and a strange fear rose at the back of his throat. He almost let out an audible cry of distress, not knowing what was causing this feeling.</p><p>“Easy, easy,” came a low but warm voice from beside him. A hand rested on his shoulder, soothing him.</p><p>Xichen gasped to see Gaoran sitting in a chair beside him as he lay in bed, a strange reversal of the way they had first met. He had not realized it, but when Gaoran had touched him, he had instantly grasped his hand. It was only after he had a moment to sort his thoughts that he noticed a powerful ache in his other arm, and he started to remember what had happened. He reluctantly let go of Gaoran’s hand.</p><p>“You and…Sizhui managed to get away?” Xichen asked. </p><p>Gaoran nodded. “How do you feel?”</p><p>Xichen took a deep breath, centering himself. “The pain is not so bad as before.”</p><p>“Do you need anything?”</p><p>Xichen’s response became swallowed up in his throat. He honestly wasn’t sure why Gaoran was being so attentive toward him. Or perhaps he was still dreaming. But he didn’t like it. It ran the risk of giving him false hope. </p><p>He shook his head. “Thank you, Master Feng. You…don’t need to stay.”</p><p>Gaoran glanced aside and thought this over for a time, but made no move to leave. “I’ll leave if you want me to,” he said eventually.</p><p>But this made things only more difficult for Xichen. Truthfully, he didn’t want Gaoran to leave. He still felt very weak and in pain, and being alone like this was a frightening thought. Gaoran speaking to him so softly gave him a deep sense of comfort that was very difficult to let go. But his presence here also brought its own kind of pain.</p><p>“Yes…” Xichen eventually forced himself to reply. “…I don’t want you to stay.”</p><p>Gaoran cast his gaze off to one side in thought. He sighed. “I lied. I’m too nervous to leave you. Sorry, Xichen, but put up with me for a little longer.”</p><p>A painful but pleasant ache ran through Xichen’s chest. “…’nervous’?”</p><p>Gaoran nodded, folding his arms and crossing one leg over the other as if he had every intention of patiently waiting here a long time. “Congratulations. I don’t scare easy, but you scared me back there.”</p><p>“…when?”</p><p>Gaoran gave him a withering look. “You remember diving out in front of your disciple like a martyr?”</p><p>“That scared you?” Xichen murmured, a painful hope building in his heart.</p><p>Gaoran seemed somewhat puzzled by him. Eventually, he looked away again with a sigh. “How did a paragon like you grow up with so little self-esteem, I wonder?” he muttered idly to himself. “Yes, Lan Xichen. I, and many other people, would be very troubled if you got hurt.”</p><p>A little of the hope sank from Xichen’s chest. True, it was better than being hated, but that wording made it seem that Gaoran’s feelings for Lan Xichen were no different than anyone else’s. </p><p>At that moment, he felt a soft touch over his hair. “You still need sleep,” Gaoran said softly. “Rest easy. I’m standing guard.”</p><p>A reluctant request not to worry so much lost its strength between Xichen’s heart and mouth. His eyes drew closed amid the warmth of Gaoran’s touch over his hair. Gaoran stroked him there several times before withdrawing and folding his arms again, looking quite content to sit indefinitely just as he was. Hoping it would not be noticed in the dark, Xichen reached out his fingers to touch the edge of Gaoran’s clothes as they rested on the side of his bed.</p><p>Unbeknownst to him, the other man’s cold and forbidding brow twitched slightly. But then it relaxed. And for the first time since they met, the same warm feeling was shared between the two men through the dark night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Black Sludge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Xichen wakes up to find Gaoran had stayed beside him all night. When Huaisang comes to check on him, things grow tense.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Lan Xichen next woke, his fingers curled instinctively in an attempt to grasp at the clothes that had been so close when he fell asleep. But there was only cold air where they had been. He opened his eyes with a quick inward breath and half rose from bed. But it was true, the chair beside his bed was empty. </p><p>Amid a cold, empty feeling, he lowered his gaze to the ground. Why had he assumed that Gaoran would still be here when he woke? Not for the first time, he found himself feeling foolish on Gaoran’s account.</p><p>He pulled up the covers and had just lowered one foot to the floor when a shout came from outside his door. And then a splat, like something moist hitting a wall. Xichen froze, thinking the voice had sounded like Gaoran’s. But why would he be shouting inside the Unclean Realm?</p><p>After the splat, there was a distant sound of gasps. And then a softly apologetic, “Feng-gege…I’m really sorry. Truly. My bad.”</p><p>A pause. A sound of dripping. “Wei Wuxian,” came a low growl. This time it definitely was Gaoran. “Go away. Don’t let me catch you near this room again.”</p><p>“Yes, sir. Come on, Sizhui!”</p><p>“Gaoran-ge,” said Sizhui, and then a soft rustling of two sets of feet quickly departing.</p><p>A heavy sigh. </p><p>A few seconds later, the door of the chamber opened. A very strange figure came inside and blinked at Xichen. Gaoran glanced aside, apparently in shame, which was understandable. Half his face and much of his left shoulder was currently covered in what looked like an oddly shiny, black liquid like viscous ink. </p><p>“Sorry,” Gaoran grumbled. “The brats are experimenting with some qi-blocking techniques. I thought they were too noisy so I went outside to quiet them. And this is the result,” he added bitterly, casting a scowl at the inky fluid dripping down his hand. </p><p>“Pfft.”</p><p>Gaoran raised his eyebrows in incredulity. Xichen gasped and covered his mouth, mortified. He was a grown man. There was nothing funny about someone being covered in inky fluid. Did he have no sense of sympathy? Though in fact, if he didn’t know better, he would say Gaoran seemed mildly amused by his reaction. </p><p>“I’ll just have a bath and come back,” he said, the amusement lifting his normally forbidding voice. </p><p>Xichen’s chest felt full and heavy at the same time. So Gaoran had stayed beside him after all. He might just be worried, but wasn’t that a lot of concern? Could it be that Gaoran’s feelings for him had changed, just a little?</p><p>Xichen heard some splashing from behind a screen, and realized there was already a bath ready inside the room. Which meant…Gaoran was undressed just a few feet away. Xichen’s heart pounded. Competing voices rose inside his mind. </p><p>He doesn’t like you, otherwise he would never be so shameless, said one part of him. </p><p>But another, Doesn’t this mean he’s lowering his guard? Gaoran doesn’t seem to care much about modesty anyway. </p><p>And then yet another, Exactly. Because he doesn’t like you.</p><p>Even so, hope and an odd nervousness kept bubbling up inside him, while Xichen’s cheeks grew warm at imagining what was behind the screen.</p><p>“This bath was actually meant for you, but it’s cold by now anyway, so I hope you don’t mind,” came Gaoran’s voice amid the soft splashing sounds. “I’ll have the Nie myrmidons prepare another once I’ve got this stuff off me.”</p><p>“Ah…thank you,” Xichen murmured absently.</p><p>Eventually, the near silence and his over-active mind became too oppressive, and Xichen forced himself to speak again.</p><p>“Gaoran…I just realized I never asked. Where are you from, originally?”</p><p>After a small pause, “…a little mountain temple in Shandong. You won’t have heard of it.”</p><p>“Oh,” Xichen murmured, and struggled to think of how to continue. “…do you miss it?”</p><p>There was a longer pause this time, and Xichen heard the sounds of the water again. He thought perhaps Gaoran really didn’t want to answer that. “In a way,” came the eventual reply, which Xichen was relieved to hear. “It’s a bit complicated.”</p><p>“I see. Is it much different from Gusu?”</p><p>“Similar in some ways. It’s not as cold. And obviously we were a much poorer temple than the Cloud Recesses.” There was a sound of Gaoran standing up in the water. “Ah,” he said. “I forgot a towel. Sorry, Xichen, would you mind?”</p><p>The way Gaoran had taken to calling Xichen by only his courtesy name, as if he were a younger equal, made his heart flutter a little. He quickly assented and actually stood up a little too quickly, forgetting he was still weak from having his qi drained. Fortunately he withstood a wave of dizziness and was able to find a towel in one of the closets. </p><p>He didn’t think as he walked directly behind the screen to hand Gaoran a towel. He took in a quick breath before he could stop himself. Of course, as Gaoran stood in the tub, waiting for a towel, he was obviously naked. </p><p>Though it was not clearly visible under his clothes, his body was a mass of muscle and scars. Some scars went so deep that they were visible in his silhouette. Together with the wiry and tense packing of his muscle, as if he were on constant alert, there was not a smooth place on his body. Even so, his shoulders were broad and his waist narrow, giving an overall dependable and powerful feeling. Though he was facing away and Xichen did not see the important part in the front, Gaoran turned his head back when he noticed Xichen staring.</p><p>He raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s a little hard to reach from there,” he said, glancing down at the towel.</p><p>Xichen gasped and shoved his arm vaguely forward while at the same time turning his face away. His heart was pounding. His body felt hot. </p><p>Gaoran toweled himself off in moments and put on a fresh robe. “Sorry you had to see that,” he muttered.</p><p>“…I don’t mind,” slipped out of Xichen’s mouth. He blushed as he realized that it might sound as if he had intentionally come in here to see Gaoran naked. “I mean…I’m sorry,” he added quickly, attempting to move back toward the bed.</p><p>He was shocked, and felt a flutter run through his chest, when a cold hand closed around his wrist to stop him. “Xichen…” Gaoran said softly.</p><p>Xichen didn’t dare turn around. He knew Gaoran didn’t feel the same way about him. Getting so close to him like this seemed cruel. Moreover, was he about to criticize him for ogling at him?</p><p>For a long time, Gaoran didn’t speak. Xichen couldn’t bear to ask what he wanted either, so a heavy silence hung between them for some time. Xichen hated himself for how much excitement was still running through his body just to feel the cold touch of Gaoran’s hand on his wrist.</p><p>“You…don’t have to hide it,” Gaoran murmured. “If you feel attracted to someone, even if it’s someone you shouldn’t, there’s nothing wrong with that.”</p><p>Xichen’s heart was a mess as he tried to understand what Gaoran meant by saying this. Did that mean he wasn’t disgusted? But what did he mean by “shouldn’t”? He had also said “wrong” before…was it possible he hadn’t been talking about Xichen’s feelings, but about himself?</p><p>Hesitantly, Xichen turned to face him, though he was unable to hide his blush at this distance. “But…you said it was wrong…”</p><p>“Wrong of me to take advantage of you,” Gaoran said firmly. “Not because the act itself was wrong.”</p><p>A huge weight felt lifted from Xichen’s chest to hear this. He hesitantly moved just a little closer to Gaoran, and was relieved when Gaoran’s hold on his wrist did not waver. Gaoran’s eyes were cautiously avoiding looking at his face, instead focusing with a look of care on his chest. The air felt so warm between them that Xichen almost didn’t want to move to disturb it.</p><p>“I am…glad that I didn’t make you uncomfortable,” Xichen said in a soft whisper. </p><p>Gaoran shook his head with a sigh. “No one would be upset to receive any kind of attention from you, Lan Xichen. So put that thought out of your mind.”</p><p>“But…it doesn’t mean we can do that again, does it?” he affirmed cautiously.</p><p>Gaoran’s face looked troubled. His fingers lightly stroked the inside of Xichen’s wrist, almost unconsciously. “That isn’t a good idea.”</p><p>Though he should have been expecting that, Xichen’s heart sank once more. “Why?” he found himself asking, though he was sure the answer would not make him feel any better.</p><p>Finally Gaoran’s eyes lifted and met his own. A flicker of torment could be seen in Gaoran’s eyes, just for a moment, but he quickly controlled it. “Because you’re Zewu-jun,” he said simply. “Your disciple almost bit my head off for the crime of getting too close to you, and I don’t blame him. And anyway…I still think you’re just feeling confused right now.”</p><p>Surprisingly, this last comment rankled Xichen a little in the pit of his stomach. “What would I be confused about?” he asked with a softness that belied his anger.</p><p>“…I think you’re confusing a temporary attraction based on extenuating circumstances with something deeper. You’ve heard of the suspension bridge effect?”</p><p>Xichen blinked at him in shock. It was bad enough simply to be rejected. But to have his feelings trivialized, to be treated like an inexperienced child…this was one of the rare moments in Xichen’s life when he felt enough anger to be visible in his expression.</p><p>“Master Feng,” Xichen whispered. “What insight exactly do you think you have on my feelings?”</p><p>Gaoran met his eyes once more, searching them as if confused himself. But his expression softened as he watched Xichen’s face. He seemed at a loss for a time. </p><p>“I…” Xichen began, his words failing him as his chest tightened. He felt himself leaning in closer toward Gaoran, almost against his will. His fear of being hated stopped him at the last moment, but not before he had drawn in so close that each could feel the others’ breath. Gaoran wasn’t objecting either, his eyes lingering on Xichen’s lips and his breath slowing.</p><p>At that moment, there was a knock on the door. “Er-ge?” It was the voice of Nie Huaisang. </p><p>The two quickly broke apart at the sound. After an awkward moment of silence, Gaoran fished out a more decent robe from the dresser to cover the thin inner one he was wearing and quickly put it on. </p><p>“Huaisang. Come in,” Xichen said, a little haltingly. There wasn’t really another option for what to say. </p><p>The Chief Cultivator peeked in cutely from the door, before catching sight of Gaoran fiddling with his clothes. His expression became icy in an instant. He came inside and slid the door closed behind him, all the while stonily watching Gaoran.</p><p>Finally, he looked up at Xichen, the iciness melting from his expression. “Er-ge…they said you were badly hurt. How are you feeling?”</p><p>“Much better,” Xichen said with a soft, somewhat forced smile. </p><p>Unfortunately, as he saw the changes in Nie Huaisang’s expression, he made an uncomfortable realization. What if Gaoran felt just as much pressure at being liked by Xichen as Xichen did from Nie Huaisang? He felt cold in the pit of his stomach at this thought.</p><p>“Are you sure? You look so pale. Sit down and keep resting,” Huaisang said, helping Xichen back into bed. Only once Xichen was comfortably settled there did he turn his attention back to Gaoran. “Master Feng has been…helping you?” he said with an obvious, passive-aggressive glance at the tub and at Gaoran’s clothes.</p><p>“Ah…Huaisang, it was actually Master Wei and Sizhui. They got some qi-blocking substance all over Gaoran by accident, so he used the bath here to get cleaned up,” Xichen explained quickly.</p><p>Huaisang opened his fan and fanned himself absently, obscuring the bottom half of his face. But he did cast one more judgmental glance in Gaoran’s direction. “Hm.”</p><p>The object of his gaze sighed a little. “I’ll go and ask for a fresh bath for you, Xichen. You two take your time,” he said, making his way out without a word of objection.</p><p>Xichen sighed after he left. “Huaisang. You needn’t be so suspicious.”</p><p>Huaisang sank down to a seat at the edge of Xichen’s bed, seeming lost in thought. “He just so happened to need to take his clothes off around you?” he muttered in a mild and actually quite adorable pout.</p><p>“Yes, he did. Now let’s talk about something else. Has there been any more news of the enemy, or the jiangshi?”</p><p>Nie Huaisang huffed irritably. “Yes. The attacks were spread out across multiple provinces until now. Recently they’ve started centralizing around Qinghe.”</p><p>Xichen’s concern arose at this. Although it could potentially mean that person’s power was fading, more likely she was simply gathering it close for the inevitable conflict that would soon break out between them. </p><p>“We should consult with Gaoran about this,” he muttered to himself.</p><p>Huaisang’s jaw tightened. “Why are you relying on him so much? You’re the leader of the Gusu Lan Sect, Zewu-jun. You are the one people look to for help. It doesn’t suit you to be so submissive.”</p><p>Xichen was actually grateful to hear Huaisang’s true thoughts, rather than to have him conceal them and stew about them, as he was sometimes wont to do. Xichen grasped his hand to reassure him. </p><p>“I won’t stop being your reliable elder brother just because I need help from someone else,” he said gently. “But beyond that…after seeing them in person, Huaisang, I must tell you…we need all the help we can get.”</p><p>Though Huaisang’s eyes looked a little red, Xichen’s touch seemed to have appeased him very much. He covered part of his face with his face again before muttering, “I’ll go and talk to the other clan leaders about meeting with Gaoran then.”</p><p>“Thank you, Huaisang,” Xichen told him warmly.</p><p>“Mm,” Huaisang murmured with a soft little obedient smile. </p><p>Xichen’s heart ached a little as he left. Huaisang was truly very sweet and he couldn’t deny he was adorable. But it was so difficult to think of him as anything but a little brother. If only he could have, he thought. So many people might have been so much happier if he had never grown so attached to a man seemingly only capable of dragging others into his own spectacular self-destruction. </p><p>In the back of his mind, though he tried not to think about it, he knew there was another reason that it was hard for him to feel deeper affection toward Huaisang. The other tactics he had used to avenge his brother, Xichen could forgive, as long as he didn’t dwell on them too deeply. But those final moments, when Huaisang had told a baseless lie that he knew would lead to A-Yao’s death, at a moment when he was already defeated and it was no longer necessary, and at Xichen’s own hand…part of him had never completely let that go. Sometimes he could still hear the sound of Huaisang’s voice falsely raised in panic, just before the sound of Shuoyue opening A-Yao’s body, and breaking his heart.</p><p>…</p><p>Gaoran had already asked one of the Nie myrmidons to prepare another bath, and in the meantime had taken up leaning against the wall outside Lan Xichen’s chamber. It took him a while to realize he didn’t need to. He had stayed last night because he didn’t want Xichen to wake up alone. He knew the touch of the jiangshi was painful and frightening for anyone, and being alone made it worse. But now he was awake, was being cared for by someone much more familiar with him, and was waiting to take a bath. Gaoran wasn’t needed here anymore. That fact actually hadn’t occurred to him until the door slid open and Nie Huaisang emerged from inside.</p><p>The eyes of the Chief Cultivator met Gaoran’s for a long moment as Huaisang stood in the doorway, expressionless but with somewhat reddened eyes. He slid the door closed behind him and raised his fan to cover most of his face. Gaoran expected him to walk away in a huff, but he did no such thing.</p><p>Nie Huaisang moved slowly over to stand parallel with Gaoran, without looking at him. “Xichen seems to trust you,” he said, after the tense silence between them had already become uncomfortable.</p><p>Gaoran said nothing. That kid Sizhui’s hostility was a cake walk compared to the seething hatred he could feel coming from this small, delicate man. He knew saying anything would only make things worse.</p><p>Huaisang’s eyes finally graced Gaoran’s shoes with his attention. “To my eye, you’re a tasteless, violent, rude nobody, taking advantage of your good fortune to have found shelter with the kindest man alive,” he said, so matter-of-factly that it almost didn’t sound aggressive. “I don’t know what spell you put on him, but I’ll give you some advice. Don’t get too comfortable by Lan Xichen’s side.”</p><p>With that, he finally did walk away, fanning his face as if the outburst had made him too hot. Gaoran sighed. Unlike the case of Sizhui, it was harder to view a declaration like that as having purely innocent intentions. And harder to find the declaimer cute.</p><p>Gaoran was about to head inside and spend some more time with Lan Xichen, before he reminded himself there really was no reason for him to do that. His hand hovered before the door. He was caught up for several, long moments in the memory of Lan Xichen’s face drawing closer to his own just now. </p><p>In the end, his nerve deserted him. Somewhat dejectedly, he made his way over to Wei Wuxian and Lan Sizhui. Wei Wuxian caught sight of him and smiled, as if he had completely forgotten the havoc he had been a part of earlier. </p><p>“Gaoran, good,” Wei Wuxian said brightly. “Take a look at these and see if you think they’re strong enough to block the jiangshi.” When Gaoran didn’t exactly respond, Wei Wuxian tilted his head. “Gaoran? Why the long face?”</p><p>Gaoran glanced at him, surprised he was making a face at all. He shook his head. “Nothing,” he muttered. “Oh. But I think the Chief Cultivator hates me.”</p><p>Wei Wuxian produced a lopsided, somewhat anxious smile. “Does he? Good.”</p><p>“…why is that good?”</p><p>Wei Wuxian looked a little reluctant. “Well. Let’s just say, if he hates you and you don’t know about it…it’s much worse. But let’s not think of such gloomy things now! Testing, testing!”</p><p>Gaoran sighed and accepted a bucket filled with inky, black slime, wondering how exactly life had led him to this point.</p>
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